Without a Home
by JemG
Summary: Year 5. Everyone seems a little different this year. Hermione's self-confidence is dropping because of...Dean Thomas? Harry's mind is packed with questions that no one will answer. And what is wrong with Hagrid?
1. Phone Call

Seeing as this is my first fic, I don't really know how to go about doing all this stuff. But I don't own much besides the plot. Characters are J.K. Rowling's. - JemG  
  
Without a Home  
  
"Erm, yes. Hello. I was wondering if I could speak to Harry. Please," the voice on the other end of the phone timidly asked Vernon Dursley. "Harry?" the large man's bushy, white mustache twitched. He tried to control the anger he felt bubbling inside as he set the telephone down on the table. "Harry!! Come here!" Vernon shouted up the stairs.  
Seconds later, the lanky, dark haired, fifteen year old came down, prepared for some sort of punishment. He racked his brain, though he couldn't remember anything he had done recently to deserve his Uncle's wrath. The man pointed to the phone.  
"Someone's rung you, boy. I thought I told you last time, not to give this number to any of those.people. Now I'm warning you," Uncle Vernon's red face was inches from Harry's, "You had better be of that phone in five minutes, or I'll take that owl of yours and."  
Harry cut him off hastily saying that he'd make it quick. Then he went past his uncle and picked up the phone, very curious as to who would call him at the Dursley's.  
"Hello?" Harry said, eying Uncle Vernon who was staring intently at his watch.  
"Harry! How are you? Are you ok? I do hope I haven't gotten you into any trouble," Hermione Granger rambled on.  
"Hermione! No, no trouble. What on earth are you doing calling me here though?" Harry questioned.  
"I would have sent an owl, but well, you see, it somewhat slipped my mind, and now, my parents already think you're coming and so you see, there wasn't any time," she explained.  
"Coming? Coming where?" Harry asked confused.  
"To my house. Harry. You don't have any other plans do you? With the Weasly's all gone to visit their relatives? I asked Dumbledore! He said that it was fine now. There hasn't been any activity from You-Know- Who. He reckons it's pretty safe right now. Please say you can come. Mum and Dad have already got the car started," Hermione begged.  
"Hermione! But.but, I, how will I?" Harry stuttered nervously.  
"Please Harry. You've got to try at least. I'll be in ever so much trouble if you can't go. Just tell the Dursley's that my parents are Muggles at least and won't do any magic." "I don't know how," Harry said brushing away the hair hanging in his face and lowering his voice into a whisper, "but somehow, I'll make the Dursley's let me."  
"Wonderful Harry! Now, I've got to go. Mums thinks I just came up here to get my wand. Which I did, but.you know. To ring you as well. But really, bye Harry. I'll see you in an hour or so!" Hermione hung up the phone loudly and left a silence in Harry's ear.  
Harry replaced the receiver and looked at Uncle Vernon, still standing in the doorway. He gulped.  
  
Harry Potter was a strange boy. He had faced Voldemort, one of the most powerful of all wizards five times before, and still, he was petrified of Uncle Vernon.  
Harry stared at his uncle who appeared to be actually considering his request. He stood silently waiting for his response. He was thankful that Professor Dumbledore had finally consented to let him leave the Dursley's if invited somewhere. Voldemort had been suspiciously inactive during the first weeks of the summer, but the headmaster of Hogwarts chose to take that as a good sign.  
Finally Uncle Vernon straightened up and said, "Fine." He was tired of looking after his unappreciative nephew. Why not just let the little bugger go. Then they could live in peace.  
Harry couldn't believe what he had just heard. Uncle Vernon had said yes. After no begging or groveling. Something was wrong.  
"But don't come back," Uncle Vernon told him, "I mean it, boy. You're an ungrateful wretch. So you can go to your little friend's house, and off to that twisted school of yours, but don't think of coming back here next vacation."  
Harry stood paralyzed. He was being disowned. He would have nowhere to live after his fifth year at Hogwarts. He was ecstatic and slightly worried at the same time. However, realizing that it meant at least that he could stay with Hermione for the rest of the summer, Harry said, "Fine! I don't care."  
He ran up the stairs, his uncle watching him go with a satisfied smile.  
  
Upstairs, Harry threw himself onto his bed. He hardly dared to believe that he was finally free of the Dursley's. Of course he had nowhere to live next summer, but he wasn't so worried about that. He was sure he could find somewhere.  
He sat up and glanced around his room. A few books lay open on his trunk, along with some spare parchment and quills. Hedwig, his snowy white owl, sat perched in her cage.  
Harry quickly retrieved a sheet of the parchment and a quill and sat back down on his bed. He hastily wrote out a note to Ron Weasley, his other best friend besides Hermione, saying that he was leaving the Dursley's and that he could reach him at the Granger's.  
Harry tied the letter to Hedwig's leg and, stroking her neck, told the owl to fly to Ron.  
"And I'll be at Hermione's after that. So go there when you've delivered that," Harry told her.  
The owl gave Harry's finger a friendly nip and flew out the window.  
  
Minutes later, Harry sat on the floor of his bedroom, surrounded by his belongings, very few of which had actually made it into his trunk. This was the last time he would leave 4 Privet Dr. He would take everything with him. He glanced at a few old pieces of parchment that bore several of his essays from school. Harry chuckled softly, reading over a few sentences. How had he ever passed his classes? His writing was awful!  
Harry quickly gathered the papers and set them all in the corner of his trunk. He then proceeded to pack his trunk so neatly, that even Hermione would be impressed. Finally locking his trunk shut, Harry stood up and glanced around the room. Strangely, Harry thought that perhaps he might miss it. While living with the Dursley's was nowhere near enjoyable, he had come to like his private room. A sanctuary in the middle of hell.  
Harry lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He didn't know what he was feeling now. Satisfaction? Dumbledore couldn't possibly tell Harry to stay at the Dursley's next summer after they'd kicked him out. He was thankful for that. 


	2. The Grangers

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot.  
  
A hard bang on the door half an hour later roused Harry from his thoughts. Uncle Vernon's booming voice penetrated the walls with ease.  
"That girl is here. Open this door!"  
Harry sat up on his bed and looked around. This was it. He was leaving. He never had to see this room, this house, or these people again.  
  
Taking hold of his trunk, he set it on his knee and opened the door with his free hand. Uncle Vernon had gone from the hallway. Harry dragged his belongings down the stairs where Hermione stood waiting for him.  
"Harry!! Oh my.do you need any help?" the bushy haired girl inquired.  
"Hey Hermione. No, I'm fine, but could you go up to my room and get Hedwig's cage? It's at the top of the stairs," Harry told her.  
He set the trunk down in the front hall. Hermione's parents stood there looking somewhat uncomfortable in the tense atmosphere of the Dursley household. They were normal looking Muggles. He looked at his Uncle who was sizing the two up. Harry had met them once, briefly, in Flourish and Blotts during their second year at Hogwarts. He wondered what Uncle Vernon thought of them.  
Mr. Granger was a tall, blond-haired man impeccably dressed. His glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, magnifying his dark blue eyes. Mrs. Granger was a bit shorter than her husband. Long brown hair tumbled down her back in smooth curls. Her complexion was flawless. Rosy cheeks, sparkling brown eyes. They looked like the perfect couple. In any other circumstances, the Dursley's would have welcomed such model people into their home with open arms, but this situation was different. They had one of those people. They had raised a. witch. Vernon had a little pity for them. They couldn't choose what kind of children they brought into the world, just like they hadn't chosen for Harry to live with them. Vernon smiled smugly. The Grangers may have had to keep their little brat, but he, Vernon R. Dursley was getting rid of his forever.  
Dudley watched with an expression much like his father's. The fat boy was overjoyed that his cousin was finally leaving. Harry Potter; the freak.  
Petunia stood next to her husband with a nervous frown. If Harry didn't know better, he'd have thought that his aunt really didn't want him to go. The tall, long-necked woman clutched Vernon's arm tightly, wanting to say something, but thinking better of it.  
Hermione came down with the cage after a few moments. Noticing the uneasy silence, she spoke up.  
"Thank you very much for letting Harry come visit on such short notice Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. I completely forgot to write to Harry," Hermione glanced down at the floor, knowing her parents were giving her a miffed look for not telling them. Looking back up at the Dursleys, Hermione stuck out her hand.  
"It was wonderful to meet you Dudley."  
Dudley looked as if he might keel over any moment at the idea that a girl other than his mother would touch him willingly. He took her hand warily mumbling something completely incomprehensible.  
Then, Aunt Petunia did something Harry would never forget. She let go of her husband's arm, rushed towards him, scooped him up in a hug and kissed him on the cheek. Normally Vernon would have severely reprimanded, or at least questioned his wife in bewilderment, but circumstances being what they were, he was lenient.  
Harry, recovering from shock, slowly put his arms around his aunt and hugged her back. He could feel her guilt as she held him tighter, but he wondered what had wrought it. Did she really love him?  
Petunia let go suddenly, her eyes misted with tears. Putting a hand on her nephew's shoulder, she spoke the only kind words he had ever heard from her to him.  
"Have a good year, Harry."  
Harry smiled at his aunt.  
"I will."  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
As the Granger's car pulled out of the driveway, Harry felt an odd pang in his chest. Might he really miss those awful people he had called his family for so long? Looking out the rear window, he caught a glimpse of Aunt Petunia as she slowly shut the front door. Harry wondered what volume of yells his uncle might bestow on her. If only he knew.  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Realizing that he had yet to hug his best friend, Harry reached over uncomfortably and pulled Hermione towards him.  
"Good to see you. Thanks for letting me stay," he said, and leaning towards the front, he added, "I really appreciate it Mr. and Mrs. Granger."  
"No problem, Harry. We're happy to have you. I do hope you'll like our house. I'm afraid it isn't quite the same lively atmosphere as the Burrow. It's just the three of us," Mrs. Granger informed him.  
"I'm sure it's wonderful," Harry said confidently.  
The trip to the Granger's was only a bit over an hour. Hermione and Harry spent the time playing with Muggle cards. Hermione had to teach him because the Dursley's had never bothered to. Every once in a while, one of the Granger adults turned around and asked Harry a question or two. He answered enthusiastically to everything, overjoyed that normal Muggles actually wanted to know about him and didn't think that he was a student at St. Brutus' School for Incurably Criminal Boys, or that he was a freak that made strange things happen when his emotions went into overdrive. The Grangers thought of him a regular boy. One who practiced magic with their daughter, yes, but as normal as could be expected.  
Upon arriving at their home, the Grangers and Harry all hopped out of the car and went around the trunk to get his things. They went up the front path to the front door where they paused as Mr. Granger fumbled for his key.  
"You're house is lovely, Mrs. Granger," Harry complimented. And it was. A lot bigger than 4 Privet Drive. It was a white, two-storey house at the top of Stoughton Crescent. The shutters were painted green, and opened to pale coloured curtains. The lot was surrounded by a fairytale white picket fence, freshly painted from what Harry could tell.  
Once inside, Hermione led Harry to his room. It was down the hall from her own. Opening the door, Harry found that it was quite a comfortable room. A large double bed was covered with a fluffy blue duvet and matching pillows. The walls were white, but covered with paintings by classic artists, none of whom Harry recognized. His closet was beside his bed and revealed a large amount of space for his clothes, broomstick and anything else he might want to put in. The carpet was soft and green. On the left side of the room, an old wooden writing desk sat with fresh parchment and quills on top.  
"It's wonderful Hermione," Harry told her.  
Hermione smiled at him and said, "I hoped you'd like it. I got Dad to buy the writing desk when he went to an auction last Saturday. I thought it might be easier to do your homework."  
Harry chuckled. Trust Hermione to think that.  
She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room and along the corridor.  
"Come on. I bet you haven't had lunch, and Lucy, our maid, told me she'd have it ready for when we got here. My parents will be waiting in the parlour." (A/N sorry, don't know if people in England call it that. I'm making total guesses on the U.K. slang).  
The two friends entered the room where Hermione's parents sat sipping tea and were in a deep conversation about toothbrushes. Harry failed to keep a laugh down, and the Granger's looked up at him sheepishly.  
Harry and Hermione took a seat on the couch opposite of the adults, just as Lucy entered the room, carrying a tray of sandwiches and vegetables.  
"Sorry Harry. You won't get many sweets around here," Mr. Granger informed him.  
"No problem. After a month of eating grapefruit and undressed salad, this is a feast," Harry smiled.  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
That night, Hermione went into Harry's room to talk to him. Opening the door slightly, she sae that he was sitting at his desk, working of his potions essay for Snape. Hermione smiled proudly.  
"Harry?" she asked timidly.  
He looked up from the parchment and grinned. Taking off his glasses to clean them on his shirt tail, he beckoned her to come in. She shut the door behind her quietly and went over to sit on his bed.  
"Harry. Tell me something," she began.  
"I have ten toes," he replied instantly.  
Hermione rolled her eyes.  
"Sorry," Harry sniggered, "What is it?"  
"I thought you told me that the Dursley's hated you," she said bluntly.  
Harry raised an eyebrow.  
"What, you missed the glistening tears in my Uncle Vernon's eyes?" her told her sarcastically.  
Hermione frowned, "No, but the ones in your aunt's eyes were hard to miss."  
Harry's expression faded. She was right of course. Aunt Petunia's behaviour had been puzzling. Harry had spent a good part of the evening , while he was unpacking, thinking about what it meant. It all came down to the one question. Did she really love him?  
"I know. I-I don't know why she acted that way. She's never hugged me before, and she even kissed me," Harry brought a hand to his cheek.  
"Oh. Well. I just wanted to know. I hope you don't think I'm nosy. It's just, well, you've always told Ron and me how bad they were, and well, you're right about your uncle, he's awful, but your aunt seemed nice."  
Hermione hopped off the bed and opened the door. She paused for a moment, turned to Harry and said, "I'm glad they let you come."  
Harry smiled and nodded his agreement.  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Harry! Wake up!" Hermione pounded the door of Harry's room. It was September 1st.  
Harry opened one sleepy eye and glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It read 7:20 in bright red numbers. Harry groaned and pulled the covers closer.  
Hermione opened the door and walked over to Harry. He looked so funny. His untameable hair, messed up even more. His feet pulled up into his chest. The covers tucked tightly into his fists. Hermione giggled.  
"Get up you lazy bum," she told him, yanking the covers from his hands.  
Harry shivered at the unexpected coldness. Opening his eyes, he glared jokingly at Hermione. She stuck out her tongue.  
"Why.yawn.did you get me up so early?" Harry questioned, stretching his arms, "The train doesn't even leave for almost four hours!"  
"In case you've forgotten. I live an hour farther away. AND.you haven't even packing your things. Now get up and start."  
Hermione went to the closet and opened the doors. Gasping, she stumbled back.  
"Harry! Oh, I am so sorry!" her cheeks went bright pink.  
Harry sat up rubbing his eyes and grinned at his friend. His trunk was all neatly packed and ready to go. He had stayed up late the night before packing. He hadn't wanted to be late.  
"Don't worry about it Hermione. I can sleep on the train. I should probably be up anyway. I need to thank your parents for all they've done. And I'm sure I've forgotten something, so it wouldn't hurt to double- check," Harry reassured her.  
Hermione nodded; still embarrassed from assuming that Harry would never do anything before the last minute.  
Harry got up from the bed and fixed the covers. Taking his glasses from the nightstand, Harry retrieved his clothes from where they hung on the desk chair.  
"If you don't mind though," Harry said, still yawning, "I think I'll take a shower before I do anything."  
He walked out the door and went into the washroom. (A/N is that only Canadian? Me = Canadian. Or do they use washroom in England? Can't remember. Anyway, for all you Americans and other people, that's a bathroom ;) )  
After his shower, Harry dressed in brown trousers and a black sweater that for once, fit him just right. The pants had been Dudley's old ones, but Mrs. Granger had them in considerably. The sweater had been a birthday present from Hermione's father.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
"RON!!!! RON! Over here!" Hermione yelled to her best friend. She and Harry had arrived at King's Cross in plenty of time. She had spotted the Weasley's quite easily. Ginny stood talking to her mother who was pointing to the night, black train; the Hogwart's Express. Steam billowed from it in swirling clouds as the whistle blew. Fred and George were whispering with each other, no doubt about some new joke they were concocting. Ron hurried over to his friends.  
"Hermione! Harry! So good to see the both of you! I can't believe I didn't see you all summer," Ron exclaimed.  
Harry grinned. It had been strange not staying with Weasley's. Although Molly had promised Harry that he could come to them when Dumbledore agreed, their plans had been altered when Arthur's sister had fallen ill and needed them.  
"Missed you to mate," Harry told him.  
Hermione hugged Ron, who had grown at least two inches that summer, forcing her to stand on the tips of her toes.  
"Now let's go. The train's about to leave," she herded to two boys over to Mrs. Weasley where they all said their good-byes.  
Mrs. Weasley apologized profusely to Harry for not being able to have him over. Harry told her not to worry. He'd had a fine summer, and perhaps next year he could stay with them.  
"Of course! Of course! That will be wonderful Harry," she told him. Turning to her children, "Now Ron, don't forget to write as soon as you get there. Ginny, straighten your skirt, dear. Fred, George, no pranks! Please try to behave this year. You are in your seventh year. Don't you think it's a bit immature to still be joking around?"  
The twins groaned.  
"Mother. Face it! We're never going to grow up! We'll be pranksters forever," George told her.  
"I can see it now," Fred waved his hand through the air and looked into the distance, "Prankster's Hall of Fame. We'll have our own room, eh George?"  
"Your own room?" Ginny piped up, "They'll dedicate the whole building to you."  
Hermione, Ron and Harry laughed at this probable truth. Mrs. Weasley sighed, exasperated.  
"All right you rascals. Onto the train with you," she herded her children to the door,  
"I'll see you all next year." She waved to them as the boarded the train.  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
  
Hermione, Ron and Harry went to find a cabin for themselves. There was an empty one near the front so they took it over and Harry and Ron started a game of Exploding snap. Hermione nervously got to her feet before they'd been there five minutes.  
The two boys looked up.  
"Where are you going Hermione?" Ron questioned.  
"O-oh," she stuttered, "Didn't I-I tell you? I- I'm a prefect."  
  
princess55 : yay! My first reviewer. And hopefully not last. Thanks for the compliments. I disowned him (started writing the story before the fifth book came out, so I decided not to change it), but thanks again. 


	3. Arrival

**Disclaimer** : I own nothing, nadda, niente, zip, nani mo. Except the plot of course.  
  


Chapter 3 : Arrival

                Ron jumped up from his seat, his eyes wide with surprise.

                "A prefect?  Hermione!  Why didn't you say anything?" Ron went over and wrapped his arms around her.

                Hermione, startled, asked, "You aren't mad?"

                "Well of course I am!  You ought to have told us.  But it's wonderful news Hermione.  Everyone knew that you were going to get the badge anyway.  Not much of a surprise," Ron assured her.

                She looked at Harry who gave her a nod, "That's right.  You are the smartest in school.  It's no wonder McGonagall picked you.  Congratulations."

                Hermione smiled.

                "You boys are fantastic.  I was so afraid that you wouldn't want to be friends anymore.  I mean, just because you're my best friends, doesn't mean you'll be getting any special leniency."

                Ron raised an eyebrow.

                "Ok," Hermione gave in, "Maybe a little, but I will have to reprimand you _some_times."

                Harry nodded again, "We'll just have to make sure that we don't get caught, eh Ron?"

                Grinning, Hermione left the compartment.  Why had she been worried?  She ought to have known that they wouldn't care.  She walked all the way back to the last compartment where both the Heads and the prefects met.  Hermione was all smiles now.  Her friends were happy and she had finally achieved one of her dreams of becoming prefect.  Her parents were so proud of her.  

                Sliding the door open, the cabin revealed to be larger than the other ones to make room for all of the extra people.  Glancing around, Hermione recognized all of the students.  Hufflepuff prefects were Ernie MacMillan and Hannah Abbott.  The two sat beside the window talking lazily about Quidditch.  Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst from Ravenclaw were dangerously trying to play a game of Snap on their knees.  The two Slytherins, Blaise Zabini and Adrian Pucey (A/N I wasn't sure what year the Slytherins were in, but I didn't want to make Draco a prefect.  If you know a fourth male Slytherin in Harry's year, lemme know and I can change it, but for now, this is how it is.  Same with the Heads.  Not sure what year everyone is in and it makes it difficult) wore evil grins on their faces while they spoke but Hermione, from experience, knew they weren't up to anything.  Slytherins always looked evil no matter what.  Hermione's prefect counterpart, Dean Thomas, was slouching in his seat, twiddling his thumbs, looking very bored.  Catching sight of his fellow Gryffindor though, he straightened up and made room for her to sit down.

                "Thanks Dean," she slid beside him.  She was quite delighted that another Muggle-born was prefect with her.

                "Alright, now listen up," Alicia Spinnet, the Head Girl from Gryffindor, announced.  Stewart Ackerly, Ravenclaw Head Boy, nudged Hannah who was still locked a lazy spiel about which Quidditch team had the best Chasers.  She jumped at Stewart's touch and looked at Alicia sheepishly.

The Head Girl nodded and began her speech.

"Dumbledore asked me to go over the rules with you briefly.  Things like making sure students are in bed by lights out.  No girls in the boy's dorms and vice versa.  Dress code.  I don't think he meant for us to go into each one, just to make sure you'd enforce them.  I want all

students treated fairly.  No special favours for your friends," Alicia looked at Hermione, then, switching her gaze to the Slytherins, added, "And no extreme punishments for your enemies."

The prefects all nodded in unison.  Hermione was glad that Malfoy hadn't made prefect.  He would have taken full advantage of his privileges and made Ron and Harry's lives hell.  It wasn't a surprise that he hadn't received a badge.  

'Snape may have wanted him, but I doubt Dumbledore would have agreed with such a choice.  He knows Malfoy would severely abuse his power,' she thought. 

Alicia's speech was short and to the point, something for which the prefects were grateful.  They left as soon as she finished and walked through the train to theirs compartments, talking about their newfound authority.

"I'm really glad your prefect, Hermione," Dean told her smiling, "As much as I like Lavender and Parvati and the others, I just don't think they would do a very good job, like you will."

                Hermione was flattered right down to her toes.  She grinned widely at Dean's praise and confessed to him, "I'm glad you are too.  I think you're the best man for the job.  Harry and Ron get in way too much trouble."

                Dean went slightly red at the words 'best man'.  

                Reaching her compartment, Hermione said goodbye to her peers and went inside.  Harry and Ron had given up on Exploding Snap and were now digging through the food they had bought of the trolley.

                Ron looked up as she entered.

                "Hermione.  You missed the food trolley."

                "I can see that.  Did you leave anything for anyone else?" Hermione teased.

                "Mock all you want," Harry told her, "We happen to be growing men."

                "Right.  Growing, maybe.  Men…no."

                "That was uncalled for," Ron defended them, "Now you don't get any of the chocolate we bought you."

                The red-haired boy scooped up some of the candy and held it away from Hermione.  

                "That stuff rots your teeth," she informed them.

                "Spoken like a true dentist's child," Harry said.

Hermione laughed and sat down and took a chocolate frog from the pile in Ron's arms.  He sighed.

                "Ok.  You can have some."

                The trio sat, working their way through the sweets.  For a while, the sound of chewing was all that could be heard.  Then the cabin door slid open, and there stood Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe.  

                "What do you want Malfoy?" Harry demanded.

                "What?  Can't a guy just come and chat once in a while?" he replied with mock offence.

                "A guy can, but a guy never has," Hermione reminded him.

                "Ah, Granger.  Always a pleasure," he sneered, "Still hanging out with Dumbledore's pets are you?"

                "At least they can hold a decent conversation." Hermione retorted.

                "Are you implying that Crabbe and Goyle can't?" Malfoy questioned.

                "Grunting doesn't count as talking," she told him.

                Malfoy's bodyguards stood silent for a moment, trying to figure out what she had said.  When they did, they made fists and started towards her.  Hermione jumped slightly, but Malfoy held the two large boys back.

                "Don't waste you're breath.  A Mudblood isn't worth it.  Especially on who thinks she's better than a Pureblood.  Filth like that," he paused and looked straight into her eyes, "isn't worth _anything."_

                Harry leaped from his seat and took a stance in front of his enemy.

                "Get.  Out," he snarled, his face inches from Malfoy's.

                Malfoy turned on his heal, satisfied with his ability to provoke the _wonderful Harry Potter_.

                As soon as the three Slytherins had left, Harry sat down beside Hermione and told her, "You know that anything Malfoy says, can't be believed, Hermione.  You're worth more than a thousand of him.  You _are_ better than that slime."

                Hermione gave a little smile and replied, "I know, Harry.  It doesn't bother me so much anymore.  He'll never grow up.  I've given up hope that he might one day realize the trouble his bitterness and disagreeable nature will cause him."

                "I think he has more than just a disagreeable nature, Hermione," Harry pointed out.

                Hermione gave him a soft punch in the ribs, "You know what I mean."

~~~~~~~~~

                When the Hogwart's Express came to a stop in Hogsmeade, Ron, Harry and Hermione pushed their way off the train.  A wave of nostalgia came over the trio when they heard Hagrid calling the 'firs' years.'  They stood around, waiting for the horseless carriages.  When they came into view, Harry gasped.  They weren't horseless at all.

                "What's wrong Harry?" Hermione asked.

                "The horses…the carriages…What are those?" he stuttered.

                "You can see them???" Hermione exclaimed.

                "See what?" Ron butted in; wanting to know what was going on.

                "The Thestrals, Ron.  The creatures that pull the carriages.  I've never seen them of course.  I've read about them though," Hermione informed them.

                "Is there anything you haven't read about?" Ron asked sarcastically.

                Hermione glared at him.

                "There really interesting.  They follow the smell of blood.  They can sense it from really far away."

                "How come we can't see them?" Ron wanted to know.

                Harry, still somewhat shocked by the arrival of these dark, night-creatures, tore his gaze from them and looked expectantly at Hermione.

                "They're invisible.  Well to most people anyway.  You can only see them if…." she broke off.

                "If what?  If _what_??  Hermione?" Ron pushed.

                Taking a deep breath, Hermione blurted, "If you've seen death."

                Harry looked down.  Cedric.  He had seen Cedric die.  Why did it have to haunt him?

                "Harry," Hermione pleaded, "You know it isn't your fault.  You couldn't do anything."

                He knew she was right.  He couldn't do anything.  If only he had had more time.  Voldemort was so quick to kill him; Harry hadn't gotten any chance to react.

                He nodded and gave her a strained smile.  Ron patted him on the back with a, "Wasn't your fault, mate."

                Trying to ignore the eerie fleshless horses, Harry climbed in the carriage after his friends.  They arrived at the castle and were ushered into the Great Hall by their dorm heads.  

                Once seated, the students waited impatiently for the sorting to begin.  It's song was long and curiously sad.

                "Must've been on the shelf too long.  Getting' sappy on us, eh?" Hermione heard a 6th year whisper to his friend.

                After it finished, the first years began to be sorted.  Each table cheered loudly as their new members joined them.  Among the Gryffindor newcomers were Jason Spinnet, Alicia's younger brother and Susan Watson, a small girl with fiery red hair reaching down the length of her back, pale skin and as many freckles as Ginny Weasley.  

                "Who's that?" Harry asked, pointing out the redhead, "She looks an awful lot like Ginny."

                "Susan?  She's my cousin, mate, on Mum's side.  I didn't know she was coming this year.  I thought she was only ten.  We don't see her family much.  Her father's a bit….erm….richer than ours.  But she's nice enough I suppose.  Figures she'd be in our house.  Weasley's have always been Gryffindor's.  Dad can trace us back five generations," Ron told him proudly.

                As soon as the golden plates had been filled, the young Weasley stalked up to Harry and said pointedly, "_You're, Harry Potter."_

                Harry, somewhat startled by her blunt approach, mumbled in agreement through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

                "Mum told me you'd be here," pausing, she pointed to the small space in between Harry and Hermione, "Mind if I sit?"

**pablo5280 **: Thanks. I will!  
  
**Anonymous HPFAN :** Thanks. I'm glad you like it. Great minds think alike eh?  
  
**Von** : You have no idea what an idiot I looked like after I read your review. I was all smiles for like five minutes. Lol. I'm glad you like the story. I've read oodles of the kinds that you've mentioned, like everybody falls in love in like two seconds, and while some may be well written, I just don't see them as believable. (A/N No offence to anyone who reads this. Believe me, I still like em () I shall definitely start a mailing list if you want to be informed when I write more. Hopefully I keep up with it. I have a tendency to stop when I get bored. But reviews are definite boosters. I know that you will notice that I added the Thestrals and a few things that go with OotP. Sorry bout that. I just thought that after reading it, it sounded cool, so I put it in. But I wont do that often. Thanks again!  
  
**princess55** : Ok! Updated. Did you want me to add you to the mailing list? Thanks for reviewing!  
  
**A/N :** I put in new characters, something I don't like to do cuz they always seem so not real, maybe that's cuz I know they aren't ;). But anyway, these new people shouldn't be really big in the story. I dunno tho, can't make any promises. Keep up the R&R!


	4. Hagrid

Disclaimer : Nothing is mine….do I really have to go thru this?

Chapter 4 : Hagrid

            Ron spoke up, "Bugger off, Susan.  The first years sit over there." He pointed her in the direction of the end of the table.  

            Stiffly, she gave Harry a smile, glared menacingly at her cousin and stalked off.

            "That wasn't very nice, Ron," Hermione concluded.  Hermione, defender of the weak and helpless.

            "She'll get over it.  You did not want her here.  She's a smart aleck and talks more than you, Hermione," Ron informed them.

            Hermione scowled at her friend.  True, Hermione did talk quite a bit.  She had a lot to say, and it wasn't a surprise, with all the books she read.  She liked being smart and conversational.  She was proud of all she had achieved.  She wished her friends didn't tease her so about her intellect.  She didn't try to show off, it was simply her nature.

~~~~~~~~~

            After the feast, Hermione and Dean led the new Gryffindors to the common room.  Upon arriving at the fat lady's portrait, they warned the first years not to forget the password.  Under no circumstances, would they be let in without it.  

            "Twinkle toes," Dean told the fat lady.  The portrait nodded, much to the surprise of the new Muggle-born students, and opened.  Once they entered, the newcomers were in awe of the room.  It was quite magnificent upon first glance.  The plump, feather, gold and red couches spread about the room gave the impression that snuggling into them would be absolute felicity.  The common room pictures murmured their hellos, further astonishing the Muggle-born.  The fireplace was dark and bare of its comforting crackle, but it gave the room a homey touch anyway.  

            After directing the students to the appropriate staircases, Hermione and Dean went to find their friends.  Harry and Ron came stumbling in with laughter lighting their faces.  Tapping her foot on the carpet, Hermione demanded, "What did you do now?"

            Taking a breath from his laughing, Ron managed to sputter, "Y-you shoulda seen it, Hermione.  Malfoy just got told off, b-by a-a FIRST YEAR HUFFLEPUFF!!"

            "And not only that, she took his wand and put the leg-locking curse on him, and since no one would help him, he had to jump all the way down the hall like a rabbit to fetch his wand where she'd thrown it," Harry told her, still smiling wildly.  (A/N ok I know that's really not funny when you read it, but think, Draco Malfoy, hair always perfect, jumping down the hall with the whole school laughing…….anyway.)

            "By the time he got the counter-curse, the little genius had escaped to her common room.  It was brilliant!" Ron exclaimed.  

            Hermione had to grin.  Too bad she had missed it.

            After a while, the fifth-year Gryffindors settled down onto the snuggle-worthy couches in front of the fireplace and talked.  Having not seen each other for a whole summer, they had a lot of catching up to do.  At first, the chatter of ten or so teenagers was constant, but as time wore on, it slowly dwindled to two or three talking at once.  Finally, when all was quiet, Hermione spoke up.  She posed the question that was on everyone's mind.

            "So who's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

            "Don't I wish I knew," Parvati Patil breathed, "Are we ever going to get a decent one?"

            "Professor Lupin was decent!" Harry stood up for his father's best friend.

            "But his robes were so shabby.  AND, he was a werewolf, Harry," Lavender Brown pointed out.

            Harry seethed.  How dare she hold such a thing against him?  

            "SO?  He never hurt anybody!  It wasn't his fault that he was bitten!  How would you like it if it had been you?  Wouldn't you be hurt if we held that against you?  Merlin, Lavender, you can be so prejudice." Hermione was apparently feeling exactly the same as Harry.

            Lavender gasped at being spoken to so harshly.  Looking around the room, she saw that most of the other fifth years wore similar expressions of disgust at her comment of Remus Lupin.  He had been a favourite among them, and despite their strong desire for the werewolf to stay, Lupin ad thought it best that he leave.  After all, whose parents would want such a beast teaching their children?

            Harry stood up and stalked from the room, Hermione and Ron in close pursuit.  The rest of them were left in uncomfortable silence.  Then, one by one, they all left without a word to their rooms.  Lavender was left sitting in front of the dead fire.  She stayed there for a long time that night.

            "What have we got first?" Harry asked reaching for his schedule.

            "Care of Magical Creatures, with the Slytherins," Hermione informed him.

            "Well that's not so bad.  At least it's with a good teacher," Ron put in.

            The trio sat in the common room reviewing the parchments that had been handed out at breakfast.  

            "I suppose we had better hurry up then," Harry said getting up and retrieving his bag from beside the fireplace.  Hermione and Ron followed suit and the three friends set out to their first class of the year.  

            Down at Hagrid's hut, the students from both Slytherin and Gryffindor gathered a few feet from the door.  When they drew nearer, Harry saw that Hagrid wasn't there yet and the students were whispering to each other.  Suddenly, a soft moan was emitted from inside the cabin.  Hermione looked at Harry who nodded to Ron.  They went up to the door, and gave a loud knock.

            "Hagrid!  It's us!  Open the door!" Hermione shouted.

            There were a few moments of hesitation, and then, the door slowly opened a crack wide enough for the three to slip in.  Once inside, they realized something was definitely wrong.  Hagrid's hut, though not usually sparkling clean, was in complete disarray.  Books were thrown from the shelves, teacups smashed on the floor, picture frames cracked and clothes strewn everywhere.  Hagrid sat on the only chair that hadn't been upturned.  His was wringing his hands in a desperate manner that made him look vulnerable, even at his size.  

            Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron whose faces were in complete shock.  Straightening up, she walked over to the half-giant, pulled up a stool and sat with him.  His eyes were red from crying.  His hair was wild from being pulled.  Hermione placed one hand on his to stop their incessant wringing.  He froze.  

            "Hagrid?" she asked softly, "What's wrong?  What's happened?"

            Hagrid didn't say anything for a moment.  His eyes stared out as if seeing beyond the wall.  Twice, he opened his mouth and nothing came out.  Finally he tore his gaze from the wall and turned to look at Hermione.  He gave her an adoring smile.  

            "Bless yeh.  Bless yeh, Lily," his voice was soft and airy, completely unfitting to him.

            Sensing something was wrong that was beyond her power, she stood up and took the two boys who still wore puzzled expressions on their faces and led them out the door.  She doubted that Hagrid realized they had left.  His eyes had been so strange when he looked at her; a mixture of powerful emotions; hunger, love, sadness, betrayal.  With such sensations all at one moment, she knew how overwhelmed he must be.  This had to be taken to Dumbledore.

              "Hagrid says there's no class today," Hermione announced to the crowd of students.  The Gryffindor's looked slightly worried at this statement, while the Slytherins found it reason to mock the 'stupid oaf.'

            Hermione, wanting to get to the Headmaster as soon as possible, bottled her rage at the Slytherin's nasty comments, and hurried her friends along.

            "Hermione," Harry began, "Y-you don't think he meant……my mother, do you?"

            She looked up at his expectant face and told him the truth, "I have no idea what is going on in his mind, Harry.  I'm sorry."

            Harry's expression faded into one of worry.  The three friends walked the grounds towards the front of the castle.  Inside, they walked along the corridors and stairs to the headmaster's office.  Luckily, Professor Flitwick was passing by.

            Ron stopped the tiny man and explained the situation and their need for the password.

            "Ooh dear!" Flitwick squealed, "Hagrid's in trouble?  Yes, yes of course.  The password is Bouncing Bellyflots."

            Ron thanked him and the trio quickly ascended the spiralling staircase.  At the top, they saw Professor Dumbledore sorting through a stack of parchment.  When they entered, he looked up at them with a face that suggested he had been expecting them.  Dumbledore's famous, yet eerie intuition.  Summoning a few chairs, he motioned for them to sit.

            "Shouldn't you be in class?" he asked.

            "Well, you see Professor, that's why we're here," Hermione began.  

            "Oh?" the headmaster raised a fluffy, white eyebrow.

            "There's something wrong with Hagrid," Harry said quickly.

            Dumbledore frowned.

            "Still?"

            "Still?  What do you mean, still," Ron demanded.

            "I had thought that he would be over it by now.  He did say that he was fine, but I suppose I ought to have known.  It's not something someone gets over in a few days."

            "Known what?  Over what?  Professor?" Hermione prodded.  She was getting impatient.  Although Hagrid hadn't been in any serious trouble, forcing them to hurry, she was still very anxious to find out what was wrong with their friend.

            "Oh dear.  He didn't tell you?" the headmaster seemed shocked that Hagrid hadn't told his three favourite students his trouble.

            "TELL US WHAT???" Ron shouted.

            Dumbledore looked over at him.  Realizing that it was now his duty to inform the three of Hagrid's predicament, he spoke.

princess55 : *beams at the idea of being on someone's favourite author list.  Thanks princess, and sorry this chapter took a long time.  The webpage decided not to show up for the last few hours before I left for my cottage and did not get home until tonight.  And I also had to come up with the next bit so that I didn't totally screw up the story and have to change everything…


	5. Problems

Disclaimer : I still don't own any of it.

Datclaimer : But I own the plot!!!  (Sorry I wanted to do that for a while, *blush blush)

**Chapter 5 : Problems**

                "Something terrible happened to Hagrid this past summer, that especially involved you, Harry," the headmaster paused, "As you know, I sent him to negotiate with some powerful wizards for the impending war.  While he was conferring with Braon (Breen) Whelan, the Minister of Magic in Ireland, they were attacked by the Dark Lord."

                Hermione gasped, bringing her hand over her mouth.  

                "Why?" Harry asked urgently.

                Dumbledore looked rather confused by Harry's simple question.

                "Harry.  Hagrid was negotiating with enemies of Lord Voldemort," Ron shuddered at the name, but the professor ignored his discomfort and went on, "Enemies that, brought together, could create a very powerful army that could defeat him.  That is what we hope, and Voldemort prays doesn't happen."

                Harry nodded at the explanation.  

                "But, why should he try to stop the negotiations?" Hermione asked, having recovered from the sudden shock, "It's not like he could change their minds.  Nobody in their right mind would help him."

                Dumbledore frowned slightly, "That's just the point."

                Ron's eyes widened, "Y-you mean, the…….Imperius Curse?"

                "Exactly.  Voldemort was trying to get Hagrid under the curse.  Not to mention, Braon.  Both could have been very helpful to him," the headmaster said.

                Harry spoke up again, "So what happened?  How did they escape?"

                "It was a poorly planned attack.  I didn't believe myself, that the Dark Lord could be so careless.  I got the whole story from Hagrid when he came back.  He arrived in Ireland in the second week of August.  They escorted him to the Ministry of Magic where he began the negotiations.  They are quite a long and tedious process.  Although the Minister feels the threat of Voldemort on the wizarding world, he was under the impression that he only wants to conquer England.  Not the rest of Britain.  On the last day that Hagrid was there, the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters ambushed them in the street.  Immediately, Hagrid was put under a very powerful curse called the Dementus Curse.  It is a very old, very unforgivable curse, though not quite so much as the main three.  When put upon a person, their minds lose control of everything.  It is very much like the affect of Dementors.  You're mind becomes void of all happiness and all that remains are your worst nightmares.  The Dementus Curse is pure torture and agony.  The difference between the curse and the Dementors is the pain.  In Azkaban, men go insane from the horrors inside their heads, but insanity is physically painless.  The curse forces you to relive every moment.  To take every curse and hex you have ever taken.  It is used to force people into submission.  Fortunately for Hagrid, he didn't suffer too much damage.   The Aurors that had accompanied him and the Minister attacked the Death Eater who had cursed him.  They outnumbered Voldemort easily.  The Dark Lord realized this too late and was forced to flee," Dumbledore looked at the three students who all wore similar expressions of horror on their faces.

                Harry finally managed to speak, "Will he be alright?  He looked awful in there.  Is there anything we can do?"

                Dumbledore smiled faintly.

                "Hagrid's mind has suffered much pain.  Although no physical damage was done, his thoughts will be fragile for a while.  The side-effects of the Dementus Curse; I didn't realize the extent of them.  I suppose I will have to find a temporary replacement for him.  As for what you can do.  Leave him be.  He is in a delicate state right now.  He needs time alone to sort things out.  And don't repeat what I have told you.  You three are dear friends of Hagrid's and must know.  I know you wouldn't rest until you had found out what was wrong with him.  However, I fear the rest of the students may see this as reason to panic, when I assure you, there is none.  

"Now, I must see to Hagrid myself.  I will explain to him that he needn't work."

                Hermione, Ron and Harry stood from there seats and walked towards the stairs, but, urging the other two to go on without him, Harry stayed for a moment.

                "Professor?" he asked timidly.

                Dumbledore turned from his bookshelf where he had been looking up names for substitute teachers.

                "Yes, Harry?"

                "Erm……When we were in Hagrid's cabin today, h-he mentioned my mum."

                "He did?  And you want to know why?"

                "Well, yes," Harry said with a slight look of forlorn desperation.

                "Well, I would have to believe that, in Hagrid's life, one of his most painful experiences was having to hear James and Lily being murdered.  He was there that night, you know.  He took you to the Dursley's," the headmaster spoke in a downhearted voice.

                Harry's eyes dropped to the floor.  Without another word, he left down the staircase, feeling the familiar hand of regret wrap around his heart.

~~~~~~~~~

                Harry wrote vigorously on his parchment as Professor McGonagall explained the inner workings of transfiguring a spoon into a mirror.  He was determined to have good grades this year.  And to get them on his own.  

                "The wrist movement is quite simple," McGonagall was saying, "Point!  Swish left! And point again!  Now, remember the words.  Reflector Mevisa.  Accent on the second syllables.  Now, go on and try all of you."  

                Harry set down his quill and watched his classmates attempt the transfiguration.  Hermione got it the best.  Ron's was just a very large spoon.  Harry pointed his wand. 

                'Point, swish left, point,' he thought to himself.

                "Reflector Mevisa!" he said in a loud firm voice.  Automatically, the hand of the spoon lengthened and became straight.  The head enlarged and flattened out.  Designs etched themselves around the edges in a plain fashion, giving Harry quite a nice mirror.

                "Ooh, that's marvellous, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.  

                Ron looked over at Hermione's squeal and glared.  

                After class, the trio talked about Hagrid on the way to the Great Hall.

                "I can't believe he was attacked by the Dark Lord himself," Hermione voiced.  

                Ron and Harry nodded in agreement.  It was quite a shock.  After believing that Voldemort had been quiet all summer.  This brought some questions to Harry's mind.

                "Why didn't you hear about it?  I mean, in the Daily Prophet, Ron?  I can understand Hermione and I not knowing, but why was the attack not on the front page?"

                "I think, maybe, that Fudge didn't believe it happened.  I mean, you heard him last year.  He was in complete denial.  Most people don't even think that He Who Must No Be Named is back.  I'm surprised that the Irish Minister of Magic agreed to talk with Hagrid.  I guess that means that he knew You Know Who was coming back.  At least some people listen to Dumbledore," Hermione answered for Ron.

                Walking into the Great Hall, the three friends found their seats and began heaping food onto their plates.  Looking around, Harry noticed that Hagrid wasn't at his spot at the head of the table.  However, one unfamiliar face sat next to Professor Flitwick in a seemingly interesting conversation.

                "Do you suppose that's the new Defence Against Dark Arts teacher?" Harry asked Hermione.

                "Probably.  She must've gotten here late.  That's why Dumbledore didn't announce her at the Sorting," she replied.

                The new teacher was a fairly older woman with long, brown hair, pale skin and round spectacles that sat on the tip of her nose.  They reminded Harry of Professor Dumbledore's.  Her wardrobe was composed of long, somewhat worn, black robes.  All in all, there was nothing very exciting about her.  

                Finally, after the tables had been cleared, the headmaster made an announcement.   

                "Attention, attention everyone.  I would like to introduce to you, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Ms. Tassi Artemisia."

                The woman stood up slowly, as if her whole body might break if her movements were quick.  She smiled at the students who stared at her questioningly.  Then she sat back down in the same slow motions.  

                The whispers that echoed through the halls about the new teacher, the female teacher, were so numerous, that it seemed to be one long spoken note that never stopped.  There was so much to say about this professor.  So many rumours circling about her past.  Strange as it was for students to talk so wonderingly about a mere teacher, they had become slightly apprehensive about the people who taught Defence Against Dark Arts.  

                "So we've got her next then, eh?" Ron asked rhetorically.  

                "What do you think will be wrong with this one?" Harry inquired.

                "Harry!  I'm surprised at you!" Hermione exclaimed as they turned into the Dark Arts classroom, "After what we were talking about last night!  And here you are being completely hypocritical.  Maybe there isn't anything wrong with Professor Artemisia.  Like you said, there wasn't anything wrong with Professor Lupin, so why should there be with this one?"

                Harry took a step back from Hermione, a little surprised, and ashamed by her words.  She was right after all.  It wasn't fair to judge this professor.  All he could do was hope that this one wasn't corrupted.  That she was a little more like Lupin.

                "You're right, Hermione," he apologized with a guilty frown.

                Hermione nodded and after a bit of hesitant surveying of the room, she spotted three empty seats, right in the middle.  Motioning for the boys to follow, she walked towards them.  They sat down right as Professor Artemisia walked in.  

                Upon closer examination, she revealed to be as average as they had all assumed.  There was nothing in her expression that said there was anything mysterious or evil about her.  But that in itself, her lack of mystery, made her all the more cause for wonder.

                "Good afternoon," she spoke in a soft voice, tinged with an Italian accent, "As you know, I am Professor Artemisia, your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.  I am from Italy originally, but I have studied English for many years.  Professor Dumbledore is a very close friend of mine and I was very pleased when he offered me this job.  I taught the very same thing in my country for a while, but I decided it was time for a change.  

                "It is my job to prepare you against Dark magic.  To instil in your minds the ways to keep yourselves alive under pressure.  I am to teach you when to run and when to fight.  Where to go when you run and what techniques to use when you fight."

                Harry had a feeling that he might like this teacher.  

                "I would like all of you to find a partner," Professor Artemisia announced to the class.

                Immediately, Harry and Ron paired up, leaving Hermione by herself.  A little disappointed that her friends would leave her out without any thought to it, she scanned the room in search of a partner.  Dean Thomas caught her eye.  He was standing in the back of the room, nervously spinning his wand in his hand.  Hermione walked over to him.

                "Be my partner?" she asked him.

                Smiling at her, he agreed, "Thanks."

                After the students had all been matched up, Professor Artemisia magicked the desks away to give them space and announced the drill.  

                "I have been informed that you know a little about duelling.  However, I see it as a very important aspect of defending yourselves, and therefore, I believe that you must know a lot about duelling.  First, simply refresh your memories with Expelliarmus." 

                Hermione and Dean took their positions.  On the count, they duelled.

                "Expelliarmus!"

                Hermione's wand flew from her hand into Dean's.  A little surprised that she had been beaten, she took her wand back from Dean and took her stance once more, with a determined air about her.  Once more they duelled, and once more, to Hermione's embarrassment, Dean managed to relieve her of her wand.  Completely thrown at her sudden failure, Hermione performed poorly while practicing even the simplest spells during the class.

                Finally, Professor Artemisia called for the end, and Hermione, red with shame, congratulated Dean on his performance and went back to her seat to collect her book bag.  

                Once in the halls, Hermione rushed through the crowd of people to her next class.  The whole day, she wasted precious time when she could have been taking notes in History, or practicing the Colour-Changing Charm.  Her thoughts were in complete chaos.  Some people would have most likely thought she was overreacting about not being able to disarm Dean, but, as she was more or less a perfectionist, it bothered her to no end.  Was she losing her touch?  Had being made prefect given her a cocky self-assurance?  Finally, when her last class finished, she rushed to the library to study.  She needed to beat Dean next time.  She _had_ to.  

                Harry found her leafing through the pages of a musty book bearing the title, '_Duelling; the Ins and Outs.'_

                The light tap he administered to her shoulder, made her jump before turning in her seat to face him.

                "Harry!  You scared the devil out of me!" she exclaimed.

                "Ah, Hermione, there's no devil in you," he replied with a wink.  

                She grinned at his lame humour and closed her book.

                "Why're you reading that anyway?  We didn't get any assignments from Artemisia, did we?" he asked, getting slightly worried.

                "N-no.  I was just, a little, unhappy with my performance today.  I wanted to be ready next time," she explained.

                "Oh."

                Harry took the book from her, and flipped open to a page.  Scanning it without actually reading, he sighed.

                "Hermione, can I ask you something?" he said hesitantly.

                "Of course you can, Harry.  What is it?" she replied.

                Handing the large book back to her, Harry opened his mouth to speak.

                "You know how, well, the Thestrals.  You know how I can see them?" he began.

                Hermione nodded, hoping he wasn't going to start blaming himself for Cedric's death again.

                "Well, I was thinking.  Why couldn't I see them before?"

                Hermione gave him a puzzled look.

                "Why should you have been able…" Hermione stopped mid-sentence, realizing exactly what he meant.  He had seen his parents die.  

**Tempest in Blue :** Haha, sorry bout that.  I'm not very good at making cliff's, so I decided that since I had the opportunity, I had best take it.  I was quite proud, lol.  Anyway, now you know what's wrong.  It took me a whole week, well maybe not a _whole week, but… I really wasn't sure how I could fit Harry's mum in the picture, but I liked the way Hagrid brought her in._

**Von** : Thanks for your help fixing the annoying little buggers in the text.  And I realized what you were saying about the Thestrals, I never thought of that.  It's the same in the book.  MISTAKE!!  MISTAKE IN THE BOOK!!!!!!  But I' trying to come up with a way to justify it now.  

**princess55** : Sorry bout those weird little symbols, but I got rid of em in case you didn't see.  Keep reading!!

A/N : I don't really have much to say, but I felt like leaving a note to my few yet, hopefully forever faithful reviewers.  I hope y'all liked this chapter.  I'm having trouble making it run together, as you can see.  It's got so many little bits going on right now.  Oh well.  Hope it works out, eh?

- JemG


	6. Strange, Awkward and Emotional

Disclaimer : It's not mine.

**Chapter 6: Strange, Awkward and Emotional**

                "I-I don't know Harry," Hermione was at a complete loss for words and she felt horrible for not being able to answer his question, "Perhaps, it's because you were too young."

                But honestly, Hermione didn't really believe that.  She could see by Harry's let down expression that he didn't either.

                "Oh.  Ok.  I should let you study then," he said dejectedly.  Pulling his robes close around him, he left the table and walked out of the library.  Hermione pushed a curl of hair behind her ear and stared at the invisible path that followed her friend out.  Why was everything going wrong this year?

~~~~~~~~~

                Harry wandered aimlessly through the stone corridors of the school.  His mind was an explosion of emotions, thoughts and questions.  Everything seemed to be happening all at once.  Back on Privet Drive, he had had a rough time forgiving himself for the events of the previous year, and now that he had finally somewhat come to terms with what had happened, problems and frustration were being heaped onto his plate as if he were starved for trauma.  

                Prying his mind away from his thoughts, he found himself standing in one of the open halls that led to a small courtyard.  He walked onto the grass and searched for an empty bench along the path.  Others were filled with students enjoying the precious few days of warm weather before winter set in.  Harry spotted an empty right at the end of the path.  He walked past his peers ignoring any of their attempts to talk to him.  Although Harry wasn't in the mood to talk anymore, he didn't feel like being alone.  The presence of other people comforted him.  

                As he sat and pondered everything that had come in to his life, he wondered if it all wasn't for a reason.  One big test to see if he was worthy of being who he was; his parent's son.  He sighed, confused by everything.  

                Although he didn't want to, he brought out the memory of Uncle Vernon kicking him out from the back of his mind.  What was he going to do about that?  He hadn't told anyone yet.  Not even Dumbledore, and he was slightly worried about what the headmaster's reaction would be.  Where was he going to end up this summer?  Living in the Leaky Cauldron, wasting his parent's fortune?  Harry knew that if he told anyone, there first reaction would of course be sympathy, but after that?  What would Dumbledore do?  While he had been fairly sure at the time that he couldn't send him back to the Dursley's, Harry's mind had warped itself into a nervous paranoia by the beginning of school.  He couldn't go back.  He _wouldn't_.

~~~~~~~~~

                "I really feel like we ought to visit him.  I mean, I know Dumbledore said not to, but really.  We _are his friends," Hermione's tone let Harry and Ron know that no matter what the headmaster had said, they were visiting the gamekeeper that night.  The trio sat in front of the fireplace in their common room.  Other students sat about engaged in various activities; studying, playing chess or just sitting because they were too lazy to do anything else.  _

                Before Hermione could begin to persuade Harry and Ron to disobey Dumbledore, not that it would take much persuasion, Lavender Brown appeared in the stone archway that led to the girl's dorms.  She looked uncertainly around the room, in search of something.  Spotting Hermione's abundant tresses splayed over the back of the couch, she strode uneasily towards them.  Harry saw her first from his position on the ground.  Still vexed with her because of her comments about Professor Lupin, he tried to ignore her, but to his further annoyance, she stopped in front of them and opened her mouth.  Her forehead knotted in frustration as she searched for the right words.  Taking a piece of her long, brown hair between her fingers, she said, "Hermione, and Harry I guess.  I'm really sorry about what I said last night.  I…I know that you were close with Professor Lupin, and it was wrong of me to accuse him of being a bad teacher just because of what he is.  I hope you can forgive me."

                Hermione and Harry stared open-mouthed at the girl who stood before them.  This wasn't Lavender Brown.  The Lavender they knew had never apologized for anything in her life.  As far as they knew, she'd never even experienced remorse, but maybe she had grown up a little during the summer.  

                Harry was the first to recover from the shock, and when he did, he stood up from the floor and stuck out his hand.  Surprised and impressed with her willing apology, he felt the need to forgive her.

                "That's alright, Lavender.  I suppose you have a right to be wary of a werewolf," he assured her.

                Immediately her shoulders fell from their tensed position and she looked more comfortable.  Looking at Hermione, she hoped that she could forgive her too.  She knew that they would be surprised by her different behaviour, but, at sixteen, she was aware that she couldn't live life forever thinking that dress robes, boys and dancing were the only important things in the world.  She knew that she needed to mature a little.  They had shown her that the night before.  

                Hermione, though a little suspicious of any ulterior motives, stood up next to Harry and said formally, "Apology accepted."

                Lavender smiled nervously.  Hermione could certainly be intimidating when she wanted to.  Nodding, Lavender backed up and walked back to the stairway.  Climbing the steps, she smiled proudly to herself. 

                "Alright.  _That_ was strange," Ron remarked as Harry and Hermione sat back down.  His friends nodded in agreement.  They sat for a minute trying to figure out what had gone on, but soon their thoughts drifted back to Hagrid.

                "I say we go tonight," Hermione said in a final tone.

                "I second that motion," Ron concurred.

                "Hermione!" Harry exclaimed in astonishment, "You!  A prefect!  Would break the rules when you haven't even been back a full week?"

                Hermione's cheek glowed pink and she lowered her gaze to the ground.

                "I know, Harry.  But I really feel that Hagrid needs us.  I don't care what Dumbledore says…"

                Hermione was interrupted by the portrait door swinging open to reveal their respected headmaster.  All the talking stopped, for, the head of the school rarely came into House Commons.  Professor Dumbledore stroked his beard for a moment, as if trying to remember what he'd come for.  He strode over to where Hermione, Ron and Harry sat.  They looked up at him in wonder.

                "It seems I have been mistaken in telling you to stay away from Hagrid," Dumbledore informed them, "He has calmed down for the moment.  I expect that what you saw earlier was a rather harsh relapse, which tends to happen.  Consequently, he wishes to see you now."

                Hermione's mouth opened slightly, but she had no idea what to say, but as the headmaster headed for the portrait, she shook off the cloak of ironic coincidence that had settled upon her and motioned for her friends to follow.  

                Professor Dumbledore left them at the front doors and told them to hurry back, that they had special privileges to be out so late.  Hermione nodded at this, in an 'I'll do my best, sir' manner.  She pushed open the great door and walked down the stone steps that led out onto the path towards Hagrid's hut.  Beside it, they could hear the chicken's clucking loudly in the silenced air.  Hermione shivered at the cool temperature as they walked along.  Upon reaching the hut, she knocked timidly on the door.  It opened to a much less frightening looking Hagrid.  The cabin itself was also in much better form than it had been earlier that day.  

                "Hello, Hermione.  Ron.  Harry.  Glad yeh all could make it," the half-giant said half-heartedly.

                "Hey, Hagrid.  Are you feeling better?" Ron ventured.  

                Hagrid nodded and closed the door behind them.  He had four chairs set up around the table so that they could all sit down.  Pointing to them, he told them to have a seat.  An order they all followed quickly.  Once settled, it was a rather humorous scene.  Although the chairs accommodated Hagrid quite well with his height, the enormous chairs dwarfed the three students so that their chins just rested on the edge of the table. 

                "I wanted t'apologize fer if I mebbe scared yeh a bit today," Hagrid said slowly, obviously awkward with the knowledge that they had seen him in such a state.

                Ron looked at Harry, then at Hermione.  Seeing that they were as clueless as he was at what to say, he tried his best to reassure their friend.

                "It's ok, Hagrid.  I mean, Professor Dumbledore told us what happened.  You've got all the right in the world to be… in a bad state," he attempted.

                Hermione glanced at Ron with a look on her face that told him that what he'd said was not all that helpful.

                "What he means, Hagrid, is that we know the side affects of that…curse, and you can't control your emotions right now.  We know how hard it can hit you.  And we're always here to help you," Hermione elaborated, but realized why Ron had difficulty.  What do you say to someone who had relived only the tortures of a life?  

                Harry sat back in his chair, making him seem even smaller, albeit he was the tallest one of the trio.  He slumped his shoulders and knotted his forehead.  His teeth clamped down made him look almost dangerous.  He could see his friends sorrow.  All because of one man.  When would it end?  He was sick of worrying, of glancing over his shoulder, of panicking when his friends were late.  He longed for a day when he could find nothing to trouble him, or anybody.  

                Hagrid straightened in his chair, and thought of something that might ease the tension.  He reached beside his seat and pulled three small packages onto the table.  He pushed one to across to each of the students.

                Puzzled, Hermione, Ron and Harry looked at Hagrid with questioning looks.

                "Open 'em," he told them, "I picked 'em up in Ireland."

                Hermione reached for the small box with pink wrapping paper.  She carefully untapped the sides, a habit she never could break.  Beneath the casing, was a dark red jewellery box.  

                "I've some relatives in Ireland, an' they took me to the wizard town.  It was called… Vinder Villa.  Yeah, that's righ'.  Strange name," he explained shaking his head. 

                Hermione smiled at him and opened the present in her hand.  Nestled in an enormous amount of fluff, was a single knut. There nothing really special about it.  It seemed rather dirty, a few nicks around the edges.  Hermione stared at Hagrid in complete bafflement.  

                "Don'tcha like it?" he asked, his anxious expression waning to a disappointed frown.

                Hermione giggled, "Hagrid, what is it?"

                The large man broke into a smile when she said this.  

                "Yeh mean yeh don't know?" 

                Hermione shook her head.

**princess55 :**Hey hey.  Sorry I didn't really explain the Thestrals yet.  I wanna come up with sumn unique first.  But no, I'm not going to make his parents come back from the dead.  I want to try to make everything as believable as possible.  Haha, an ironic thing to say while I'm writing about magic.  Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chap.  Thanks for reviewing.

**A/N :**  As for the rest of you.  REVIEW!!!! Please!!! I get so excited when I have mail.  I keep hoping that people are writing good things to me about my story.  Oh well, am I keeping you hooked enough?  Any suggestions to make it better?

Jem


	7. Presents, Potions and Patronus

Disclaimer :It's not mine.

**Chapter 7 : Presents, Potions and Patronus**

                "Well, now.  I s'pose it ain't that obvious, but I'da thought _you_ migh' know it.  It's a VinculumCoin.  Yeh've all got one," Hagrid explained as he motioned for Harry and Ron to open their packages.

                "A Vinculum Coin?" Ron asked looking up from his present, "Really?  I've read about those.  I didn't know they came in the form of a Knut."

                "Yep.  They come in all the coins.  Don' really know why," Hagrid said giving his head a confused scratch, "But the shop only had Knuts."

                "A Vinculum Coin, Hagrid?  I don't understand.  What does it do?" Hermione asked.  Harry nodded in question. 

                "A Vinculum Coin is a coin that links other selected coins to it.  Look on the edges," Hagrid told her, "There's Harry's name an' Ron's.  When they glow, it means they're near yeh.  The closer yeh come to them, the brighter they glow."

                "That's wicked, Hagrid, and dead useful, eh?" Ron stated.

                Harry and Hermione nodded, smiling as the names on their coins blazed.  Hagrid's face contorted into a goofy, yet pleased grin.  It was the happiest the trio had seen him that night.  It delighted Hagrid to be able to do something nice for his friends, especially after how he had given them such a fright.

                The large gamekeeper stood from his chair, feeling immensely better than he had earlier that day and threw a glance out the window.

                "I s'pose you oughta be goin' now.  It's getting' pretty late an' Dumbledore doesn't want yeh out too late," he informed them.

                Hermione nodded, as if she felt it her duty to agree with him.  

                "Come on you two," she said in an orderly sort of voice.

                "Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said, "I'm really glad you're okay."

                "Yeah," Ron piped up, "These are _brilliant_!"  He took a last look at his coin before hiding beneath his robes.  Opening the door, he gave Hagrid one last smile, then led the way out.  

                Hagrid's happiness waned as soon as the door was closed.  He felt the cold air of terror come upon him, and he closed his eyes and braced himself for another relapse.  

                "I'm glad he's ok," Hermione said walking swiftly up the path.

                "Yeah, it was a bit unnerving to see him like that," Ron said coming up beside her.

                Harry joined them on the path, "It does sort of make you wonder though," he continued at the questioning looks of his friends, "If Voldemort can do that to a half giant, what could he do to us?"

                Although they all knew exactly what the Dark Lord could do, their minds were caught momentarily in a web of terrible thoughts.  They were all silent the rest of the way to the common room.  

                It was empty when they reached it.  Glancing at the wizard clock on the wall, they saw that it was because it was 'Way Past Bedtime.'  Harry and Ron tiredly made their way up to their dorms, while, unfortunately for her, Hermione had to patrol for a bit out in the corridor near the fat lady's portrait.  Yawning she stepped back out of the common room and began her duties.

~~~~~~~~~

                "You look awful, Hermione," Ron told his friend honestly, the next morning at breakfast.

                "That's because I didn't get enough sleep, you twit," she snapped.  Taking a piece of crisp toast from the plate in front of her, she took an angry bite out of it.  Ron took this strange gesture as a sign to leaver her be.  So, he turned to Harry and started talking to him about their number one favourite topic: Quidditch.

                "Who do you think'll replace Wood this year?" he asked Harry.

                "I dunno.  I heard Colin Creevey's trying out," he answered.

                "Colin?  Do you think he'll make it?" Ron wanted to know.

                Harry thought about it.  "I don't know.  I've never seen him fly, much less try to block a Quaffle.  But I heard that he asked Alicia to give him a few pointers.  Oliver left her the team, so Colin thought she'd be the person to ask.  Are you going to try?" 

                "Nah.  I just make a fool of myself.  Probably fall off my broom if I tried to block," Ron admitted.

                "Ah, you should mate.  I bet you do brilliantly," Harry assured him.

                Ron grinned, "Maybe, but I don't know. I think I'm a better spectator."

                Harry shrugged and, slugging down the rest of his pumpkin juice, said to his friends, "Come one, we'd better get to Potions.  Snape will murder us if we're late for the first class."

                Hermione sighed at the thought of Potions and too little sleep.  The combination could be disastrous.

                "Ah, good to see you're on time for once, Potter," the Potions professor sneered when they entered.

                Harry turned away from Snape and glared at the wall.  After he thought the stone had had enough, he walked to his seat, followed by his friends and sat down.  It was going to be a long year in Potions.

                As soon as everyone had come in, Professor Snape began.  

                "This year, I have been informed that due to the return of…He Who Must Not Be Named, the curriculum has changed and I will therefore be teaching you all potions that can be used in battles and those for medical purposes," he looked around at the slight unease of the Gryffindor students.  Although the headmaster had told them that the Dark Lord had returned, taking action to help fight him, somehow made it all the more real.  

                The Slytherins, on the other hand, smiled slyly, as if they all shared an evil secret.  Harry looked over at Malfoy.  His blond hair slicked back, smirking; he was the poster boy for evil.  There was no way around it.  His entire lineage was pure-blooded wickedness.  It made Harry slightly nervous that at any time, a quarter of the school could quite possibly turn against them.

                "Today," Snape continued, "We are mixing a simple Frendo Formula which heals bruises.  As always, it is important to know how to create this potion.  What are the three, main components?"   

                Although Hermione's hand rose instantly, Snape ignored it, knowing her to be an insufferable Know-It-All.

                "Malfoy?"

                The Slytherin sneered at Hermione, and answered, "A Unicorn hair, Crithock bark and Trillox powder." (A/N just ignore the total lameness of my potion ingredients.  I couldn't think of anything.)

                "Five points to Slytherin," Snape awarded them.

                Hermione scowled.  After telling them how to mix the ingredients properly, Snape told them to separate into groups.  Harry and Ron once more left Hermione to herself.  She looked around and quickly walked over to Seamus Finnigan.  He smiled at her.  He knew that with Hermione by his side, he would most likely not completely botch the potion and lose points.

                As they began to slice the Gloghurd roots required, Hermione felt a light smack on her shoulder.  Looking up, she met Malfoy's cold stare.

                "Is it true?  They actually made you Prefect.  Mudblood," he spat.

                Hermione's shoulders sank slightly, but determined not to let him best her, she looked straight into his eyes and said, "Jealous that a Pureblood such as yourself wasn't asked?"

                Malfoy's cheeks tinted pink.  How dare a filthy Muggle born talk back to him. 

                "Listen you scum.  I am better than you," his face neared hers so that she could see nothing but the hard grey of his eyes, "You're nothing more than then dirt beneath my feet.  The only reason I wasn't made Prefect is because I chose not to be."

                Seamus watched helplessly as the greasy Slytherin tormented his friend.  How could he do anything?  Malfoy'd crumble him in his fist.  

                Hermione was livid, and plain fed up with Malfoy's belief that he was better than everyone.

                She stood up, more irate than scared, and scoffed, "Drop the act Malfoy.  Dumbledore's the one man that your father cannot bribe, and you know it.  Your pathetic excuse is just that.  Pathetic.  Just. Like. You."  And with that, she brushed past him and walked over to where Harry and Ron sat, to borrow some extra roots.

                Draco's heart beat with such fury that he could barely control himself.  He could hardly take in what had just happened.  The Mudblood had stood up for herself, and succeeded in making him look like a fool.  Pathetic.  His father would be so ashamed.  

~~~~~~~~~~

                "I understand that you are quite adept at producing a Patronus, Mr. Potter," Professor Artemisia said to Harry the next week in class.  They had spent the first while reviewing old spells, and finally, the new professor thought it time to begin the real thing.

                Harry nodded, turning towards her, he asked, "Why?"

                "Alas, the Patronus has always been my weakest spell, however I think it could prove its usefulness in the near future," she answered him in her soft, airy voice.

                "So, what's that got to do with me?" Harry wanted to know.

                "I want you to teach it, Harry," Artemisia said simply.

                "Teach it?  Are you mad?" (A/N sorry, I know that's really like the book, but I thought it'd be fun anyway)

                "Quite the contrary.  Seeing as you are so skilled at it, I think you'd do a marvellous job."

                Harry looked at her as if she had transformed into a giant squid.  But, seeing as she wore an expression of complete seriousness, he shook his head in disbelief and muttered, "Now?"

                "Yes, if you please," she said smiling.

**Von** : Yay, another idiotic grin lit up my face.  I'm glad you like the unique, and sometimes, I guess, not so unique ideas.  I suppose it's kind of dumb to write this when the fifth book is already out.  I keep thinking it's the sixth year and I can add in all the new stuff… but it isn't, sadly.  Thanks for reviewing, you keep me going.

**Princess55** : Thanks.  Tell me what you think of this one.  I'm still having trouble with the flow of it.  Hopefully I'll straighten it out. : )

**A/N :  As for the rest of you.  I'm tempted to give up here.  I'm not gonna be cruel to my few readers and wait for a certain number of reviews till I update, but you know, _one line isn't that hard to do._  Just tell me what you think of it.  I'm down on my knees well actually I'm quite comfortable here on the couch, but figuratively, I'm kneeling.  PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!**


	8. Yet Again

**Disclaimer**: Yes, yes.  You know it isn't mine.  

**Chapter 8: Yet Again**

                Harry, still somewhat sceptical that he was about to teach an entire class how to produce a Patronus, went to the front and made his announcement.

                "Professor Artemisia wants me to teach you all a pretty difficult charm known as the Patronus Charm," he said loudly.

                The class stopped talking all at once.  They all looked at Harry for a moment before someone finally declared, "Yeah right, Harry.  Good one." 

                The class broke into laughter.  Harry reddened and watched as Artemisia held up her hand for quiet.

                "Mr. Potter is quite serious.  I am not very good at that specific charm, and I have therefore handed you over to his expertise.  I assure you, he is quite capable."

                The Gryffindors were a little stunned, and then, slightly in awe of Harry.  One of their own was taking over for a teacher.  The Ravenclaw students, who partnered with Gryffindor for Defence Against the Dark Arts, were even more surprised.  Harry's close friends knew that he had…special qualities, but most other students were blind to them. (A/N not quite sure if that's true, I don't have the books for reference with me, so just pretend it is true.)

                "Ok," Harry cleared his throat, "First, y-you ought t-to know that the Patronus is a defence mechanism use-used against Dementors.  Each person has inside them, the…erm…capability of producing their own, distinctive form of Patronus."

                Harry looked at Professor Artemisia in askance, wondering whether or not he was going about teaching the right way.  He felt a little awkward trying to explain the charm.  He wanted everyone to just know what he knew.  When the professor nodded, he turned back to the class and went on.

                "This is a very advanced bit of magic; very difficult and very power draining.  The wrist movement is a basic flick.  And the charm is _Expecto Patronum."_

Harry heard everyone whispering the words, trying to embed them in their minds.

                "Right," Harry said in a half-hearted voice, "The other thing you need to do is think of your happiest memory; like winning the House Cup, or your first broom ride."

                He waited for a moment so that they could do this.  Then, he demonstrated.

                Nervously, he stood in the corner of the room and faced the other side.  Remembering the day when Sirius had promised him that he could live with him, he smiled sub-consciously, and let out a loud, "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!" _

                The silvery, liquid mist shot from his wand, and came together in the form of a beautiful stag.  It galloped across the room vividly before disappearing into the wall.

                The students gaped at the scene and then began talking excitedly.

                "I bet I could do that!" Decker Drimtot of Ravenclaw said.  Harry gave a little smile, recalling how difficult it had been for him to produce even a small wisp of silver.  Hs smile turned into a sly grin as he walked over to the boy.  Decker was a short, stocky guy with brown hair and brown eyes.  He wasn't overly popular or really smart, but he was known throughout the school for his exceptional talent for bragging.

                "Alright Drimtot, let's see," Harry expectantly.

                Decker's eyes widened slightly, but he quickly recovered and agreed.  As he readied his wand, he became aware of the whole class circling around him.  Professor Artemisia stood by and watched the class with an amused half-smile, resembling the headmaster's.  

                "Ok, so it's a flick of the wrist and… Expecto Patronum?" Decker asked in reassurance.

                Harry nodded seriously, but Ron and Hermione could see a flicker of mischievousness in his bright, green eyes.

                "_Expecto Patronum!!" Decker yelled nervously.  A tiny, silver spark emitted from the end of his wand, was all that he managed.  Several of the students around him snickered._

                Harry cocked his head to one side and gave Drimtot a look that told him the student-professor had expected nothing more.

                "Alright, alright.  It's harder than it looks," Decker said smiling good-naturedly.

                Eager to try it for themselves, the rest of the students dispersed and went to find their own spot to practice.  Harry wandered around, answering any questions they might have.  By the end, the only person to have achieved more than a spark was Dean Thomas.  From his wand came a long strand of the silver substance, gliding shapelessly for a moment, before vanishing.  Hermione watched as her counterpart prefect did this and felt an odd sense of loss.  Had she really become number two?  A soft sigh fled her lips as she took her bag from her seat when class ended.  

                As it was her last lesson of the day, she went back to her dorm.  She took her time in gathering up her school things and eventually, headed for the library to study.  She arrived to find it virtually empty.  Madam Pince, the librarian, sat at her desk going over her records, no doubt trying to find a student guilty of an overdue book.  A lone girl sat in the corner of the room, surrounded by books and parchment.  Hermione was surprised to realize that it was Lavender.  The brown-haired Gryffindor seemed completely oblivious of Hermione entering and she went on reading.  She looked up though, when a shadow was cast over the page.  

                "Hermione!  What are you doing here?" Lavender gasped as if she had been caught stealing.

                "Lavender, are you feeling alright?  It's me.  Hermione.  She, who lives, breathes and eats the library," she had forgiven the girl for bashing Lupin, and was now trying to come to friendly terms.

                Lavender relaxed visibly, and let a tiny giggle slip.

                "What about you?" Hermione asked, "I don't see you in here all that often."

                "Oh, I'm just studying for Potions.  Snape said there'd be a test soon."

                Hermione was astonished.  Not only was Lavender actually studying, she was doing it for Snape.  

                "Wow, Lavender.  You must be motivated.  To be studying for _him," Hermione told her._

                Lavender smiled.  It felt good to have someone notice the change in her.  She had studied every day for the past week, and her will power had yet to falter.  Her determination to do well this year, and try to mature herself, held steady, and was even growing a bit each day.  

                "Do you mind if I join you?" Hermione asked.

                "Not at all.  What are you studying?" Lavender was curious.

                "Defence Against the Dark Arts," Hermione replied, cringing as she remembered her floundering talent.

                "What, in _Merlin's name, for? _

                Hermione went to the bookshelf and retrieved the volume she needed, '_Defending Body, Mind_ and _Soul,_' by Geoffrey Hallow.  She went back to Lavender, sat down beside her and began explaining her ordeal, feeling oddly sure that the once frivolous teenager could understand.

                Lavender nodded as Hermione's predicament became clear.  Although she couldn't really relate, she could imagine the feeling of being shown up after having been the best for so long.  Hermione wasn't conceited about her extraordinary talents.  She was generous with it; helping any student who came to her.  

                "I'll help you if you like…" Lavender offered shyly, not sure if Hermione really wanted or needed it.

                This new girl sitting beside her was one that Hermione liked.  Though very different from the old Lavender, she felt the change had been for the best.  

                "Would you really?  That'd be marvellous.  And I could help you with something if you ever needed it," Hermione's offer was as shy, if not more so than Lavender's.  Almost as if she expected the girl to laugh in her face that it had all been one big prank.  

                To her relief, though, the brunette smiled graciously.

~~~~~~~~~~

                "I thought you said he_ could fly," Harry said to Alicia as he wiped a bead of sweat away from his brow._

                "He _can, Harry.  Cut Colin some slack.  He's nervous as blazes out there," she answered.  _

                The Quidditch try-outs had begun half an hour ago.  Along with Colin, a third year, Lavina Brougham, and sixth year, Allard Sims were both trying out.  Lavina was a petite girl with wheat-blond hair cropped just below her ears.  She loved flying, and had a mad passion for Quidditch.  Allard was a tall, muscular guy, with a dark complexion and brown hair to match.  He didn't really care if he made the team.  His friends had thought he'd be a good choice and so they persuaded him to show up.

                "What do you think of Brougham?" Harry wanted to know.  He watched the small third year as he blocked the Quaffle thrown by Angelina Johnson.  

                "She's pretty decent.  Probably a good choice.  Do me a favour though, Harry?  Go and talk to Colin.  Just help him relax," Alicia begged.

                Harry sighed, nodded and flew off to where Colin was, on the other end of the pitch, trying desperately to block the attempts made by Katie Bell.  He signalled the Chaser to stop for a moment as he slowed in front of the Keeper wannabe.  

                "Having a bit of trouble, mate?" Harry noted in a friendly voice.

                Colin nodded, obviously embarrassed by Harry pointing out his lack of coordination.  

                "Don't sweat it.  I know what it's like to be nervous.  Keep a firmer grip on your broom, and don't lean so far forward on it.  Stay slightly in front of the hoops.  Don't choose one to block.  Watch Katie's moves.  She loves to fake and fly all over to make you dizzy."

                A grin crept across Colin's face as he relaxed.  Harry flew off and winked at Katie as he passed.  He rested a good fifty meters from her and watched as she began to fly about again.  This time, Colin's flying was dramatically better, and so was his confidence.  His blocking was a few steps behind, but as time wore on, he improved.  

                Satisfied with his work, Harry went back to Alicia and gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder, before launching out into the middle of the pitch where he swore he saw the Snitch hover momentarily above Fred Weasley's head.  

~~~~~~~~~~

                "Zis is a Prriggle," Professor Bolvier, said in a deep French accent.  She had been the substitute teacher for Hagrid for the past week and a half.  A tall woman with long blonde hair flipped out at the bottom.  She was younger than any of the other professors by far, having graduated from Beaubaxtons only a few years earlier.  The creature she held up was a strange looking thing.  It somewhat resembled a small dog.  It had a long tail, a squashed face, long rabbit ears and was completely hairless.  It was also completely ugly.  

                "Prriggle's are useful for many sings.  Zey can eet almost anysing, even poison, and not bee affected.  Zey can grow zehr tails back immediately, zough, I do not know why zis is so useful," she told them.  With a school girl giggling, she went on.

                "Today, we will learn 'ow to care for zem." 

                She began pairing off the students.  Hermione went with Harry and Ron got stuck Parvati.  They each received one of the ugly beige creatures and listened while Professor Bolvier instructed them on caring for it.  

                They worked absent-mindedly for a while, until Hermione brought up the subject of Hagrid.  

                "It's been over a week.  How come he isn't back?"

                Ron looked over to where his friends were working.  The same question had been on his mind.  

                "I don't know.  Dumbledore said it could take a while," Harry tried to make an excuse.  He could see, though, that it wasn't a very good one.

                "I don't care, Harry.  Something's wrong.  Something that neither of them is telling us.  I say we have a right to know.  Hagrid's our friend and we ought to _KNOW_!" Hermione raised her voice in frustration.  The chatter that had filled the air only seconds before, evaporated as everyone's gaze rested on her.  Blushing angrily, she took a small Grubworm from the box Bolvier had given them, and tried forcefully to ram it down the Priggle's throat.

                "Calm down, Hermione.  We're all worried.  We just have to wait it out.  I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation," Harry tried to reassure her.  

                Although she had no desire at all to calm down, or wait, Hermione complied and put on a more composed face.

~~~~~~~~~~

                Hermione met Lavender that night, in one of the old, empty History classes, near Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.  The room was dark and dusty.  On the shelves that outlined the walls, lay books upon books of old History texts.  Opening one, Hermione smiled to see the name printed carefully inside.  Charlie Weasley.  She grinned, thinking that Ron's brother had once sat in this classroom taking notes.  

                Lavender sat at a desk in the middle of the room, rifling through the various notes she had taken during the week.  She stopped when Hermione entered and gave her a bright smile.  A genuine smile.  Hermione was grateful to see that Lavender was still serious about everything.  She had had her doubts.

                "Shall we start then?" the brunette asked.

                Hermione nodded and pulled her wand from inside her dark robes.  Lavender straightened her papers out, and proceeded to put them carefully in her book bag before reaching for her own wand.

~~~~~~~~~~

                "Where the devil is Hermione when you need her?" Ron moaned as he threw his quill to the ground.  "This is useless.  I'll never get this essay finished for Binns in time without her."

                Harry grinned at his friend.  Ron had been complaining for the last half hour.  The two of them were sitting on one of the large, plush couches in the common room, trying desperately to keep up with all the homework they had.

                "I think it's completely unfair all the bloody work they've been giving us," Ron went on, "I mean, do they really need to be drowning us in it?  I've got to study for the OWLs, don't they know that?"

                Harry laughed out loud.

                "Ron, what are you on, mate?  The homework _is the studying for the OWLs."_

                The redhead's cheeks grew slightly pink.

                "I… know that.  But…how am I supposed to study without _Hermione," he cried._

                "You're a lost cause, Ron.  This _is_ a school you know.  That strange invention they came up with so that we would learn things, for ourselves.  Not so that our friends could do the work for us," Harry explained.

                Ron sighed and nodded.  Picking up the book '_Algor the Almighty,' he traced his finger along the page in search of some unknown reason of why Algor had been so almighty._

                Harry shook his head and set down his parchment.  He still had a little over half a foot to go on his own essay, but he decided it was time for a well-earned break.  He stood up and stretched, his legs stiff from sitting cross-legged for so long.  He observed the other students in the room for a moment, before spotting Alicia and walking over to her.  She sat at one of the desks, bent over a long piece of parchment that, at the top, read '_Morgwaff and its Uses_.'

                "So, have you made a decision yet, mon Capitaine?" Harry said in a wretched butchering of the French language.

                "I think I have," she answered sitting back in her chair.

                "Well, who is to be the new Keeper?" 

                "I feel really awful about this, especially since Colin was so enthusiastic.  But I've decided to give the position to Lavina.  She really is the best one for the job," Alicia explained, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face.

                "Yeah, I suppose so.  A bit of a letdown for Colin, but I'm sure he'll get over it, don't worry.  When are you posting it?"

                "Oh, I suppose I ought to do that now.  No sense in forestalling the unavoidable, eh?" Alicia told him.

                "Yeah," Harry agreed with her.  He watched as she pulled out a short piece of parchment from her bag and went over to the message board.  Before she had even returned to her seat, there was a triumphant yell from the small third year who had won the spot.  Lavina had spent most of her time since tryouts watching Alicia like a hawk.  Colin, who arrived moments later, having been alerted by one of his year mates that the decision was up, walked away from the board downheartedly.  Avoiding anyone who tried to comfort him, and trudged up the stairs to his room, fully intending to wallow in self-pity for the rest of his life.  Allard arrived last and shrugged at the sign.  At least he wasn't going to have to lose sleep over inevitable, pre-dawn practices.  

                Alicia and Harry watched as the dejected Colin Creevey climbed the stairs.  

                "I didn't even _want this responsibility!" the sorrowful captain moaned._

                "Don't worry about it, Alicia," Harry comforted her, "You'll do fine.  Besides, you, Fred, George, Angelina and Katie will all be gone next year.  Colin will have no problem getting on the team."

                "You're right, I guess," she said glumly.  Alicia turned back to her essay, telling Harry to get some of his own homework done.

                Harry wandered back over to Ron who was still researching Algor.  He sat down and picked up his parchment, and started writing again.

~~~~~~~~~~

                "That was wonderful, Hermione!" Lavender squealed as Hermione's wand sent a splash of silver dancing through the air.  The two girls had been practicing the charm for what seemed like hours, and Hermione had finally gotten something.  However, the force she had used, made her knees weak and she fell to the floor as the silver vanished from the room.  As Lavender rushed to her side, they heard a snort of laughter coming from the doorway.  Turning around, the two girls saw Malfoy standing there, his lips bearing a mean sneer.

                Staggering to her feet with the help of her friend, Hermione demanded, "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

                "Free country, Granger," he told her, sliding his hand over his hair to make sure it was still perfect.

                "Leave us alone," Lavender ordered.

                "Brown, what in Merlin's name are you doing, associating with this Mudblood?  I thought you of all Gryffindors might have _some class," Malfoy told her disdainfully.  (Lavender isn't Muggle born…is she?????)_

                "I _do have class, you wretched excuse for a wizard.  Which is exactly why I don't socialize with __you," Lavender's eyes shot him a look of utter loathing.  _

                Taken somewhat aback, Malfoy retorted indignantly, "What's happened to you, Brown?  Granger put you under the Imperius Curse?  Last year, you barely gave her the time of day, and now you're suddenly her best mate?"

                "What does it matter to you, Malfoy?" Hermione asked coldly.

                "Nothing, Granger.  That's just it.  You don't matter.  When are you going realize that although you may act all perfect, you're just a waste of space," Draco shot back.

                Hermione laughed, amused by Malfoy's inability to come up with anything new.

                "I've heard it all, Malfoy.  I'm nothing, you're everything.  God of the world.  Pray tell, who puts that rubbish in your head?" Hermione gained confidence with every word she spoke.  She strode towards him with her head held high.  

                "Do you do everything Father tells you to?" 

                At his silence, she went on, "A lackey.  That's what you are, Malfoy.  Can't think for yourself.  You've got your whole future planned out, and I bet that you didn't utter a single word in opposition when they said you'd join him.  Face it.  You can prance around now like you're some king, pushing everyone else down, but when you get out of here, the tables will turn, and you'll know what it really is, to be the dirt beneath everyone's shoes."

                Hermione went past him, knocking him hard in the shoulder as she did.  Lavender quickly retrieved her bag and followed suit, leaving a dumbfounded Draco standing in the archway, unable to speak.

**Ecavi : Me neither, lol, me neither.**

**Princess55 **: Yay!  More verbal beating of Malfoy.  Thanks for keeping up with reviews.  You're awesome.  As long as I get _some I'll keep this story going.  Any suggestions?  _

**Von** : Awesome, great, amazing, fabulous, magnificent, very helpful review, thank you so so so much.  I was about to post this chapter last night, but it wouldn't let me, and I'm glad I didn't because I just got your review and I think it totally deserves recognition.

Ahh, Cliffies, cliffies, cliffies.  Why do I find them so hard?  Maybe I just need more excitement.  Hmmm, I will definitely try to get more in.  As for the summary, THANK YOU for that tip.  I've been trying to come up with a better one, but I have failed miserably.  Thanks also for the suggestion about Harry tutoring, I like it much.  I might just have to elaborate on that.  Anyway, now I will post this chapter and see what you think.

**A/N : K, I tried to make this one a bit longer than usual.  Not much.  3000 words, yay for me.  Hope you enjoyed.  Anything that needs to be improved?  Or that you maybe think is going to or should happen?  Much appreciated if you'd tell me.  And sorry if the last part there was kinda blah.  It took me forever to come up with half decent insults.  I'm just not a very witty person.  Sigh, must be nice to be witty.  Some day.  Some day. **


	9. Surprise

**Disclaimer :**** T'isn't mine.**

**A/N : Ok, yay for me, I did this all today.  Ok so it's not that long, and doesn't deserve real praise, I'm proud.  Anyway, I wanted to get this up before I left.  So, now I need opinions, which chapter is better?  The first #9 or this one?**

**Chapter 9 : Surprise**

                The silence that flooded the air of the Dursley house at dinner was almost too much for Petunia.  She felt the icy stares of her husband and son, but when she looked at them, they turned away.  They chewed their food in complete and utter silence.  The men felt betrayed, and she…she felt betraying.  Not to them, but to her nephew.  How had she let it happen?  She couldn't bear to think of him by himself.  Although through the years, Petunia had never shown the slightest bit of affection to Harry, it was there.  Hidden away, for so long, she had almost forgotten about it.  Only when he left, had she finally found it.  But she paid dearly for locking it away now.  And she knew what she must do.  Leave.

***

                Hermione woke up groggy, late in the morning Saturday.  She hadn't slept well the night before.  Her conversation with Malfoy had played over in her mind.  The exhaustion, too, had kept her from sleep.  Her body ached, but her mind had stayed alert.  She wondered, what the purpose of Draco's continued tormenting was.  She knew that he hated her, of course she knew that.  She was a Mudblood, staining the purity of wizards.  At least, that's how he saw her.  But was that it?

                She slid from the warm covers, and settled her feet on the contrastingly cold ground.  She shivered as she reached for her robes and, tying them loosely round her waist, hurried out of the room.  She found Harry and Ron waiting for her in the common room, as usual.  She smiled at them blearily when they turned around in their seats.  As she reached the last step, they stood up and went to meet her at the portrait door.

                "Morning, Hermione," Ron said as he stepped out into the cold hall.

                "Mornin' Ron, Harry," she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.  As she stumbled along behind them, the two boys began talking.

                "So Lavina's the new Keeper, eh Harry?" Ron acknowledged.

                "Yeah.  She's small, but pretty fast.  I reckon she'll be good.  We've got a practice Monday morning if you want to come watch.  First match isn't even until November, but Alicia wants to get started right away.  Training Lavina, I guess," Harry explained.

                The rest of the short walk to the Great Hall was spent talking about Quidditch techniques, new brooms and the best Quidditch players.  All of which, Hermione found deathly boring and reason for almost falling over asleep.

                As they entered the large room, they found their seats and began heaping food onto their plates, all with similar voracity.  They had all shirked dinner the evening before to study.  A rather unusual thing for Ron, but Harry had convinced him that since Hermione was 'going to the library to study alone,' as she told them, they would be better off doing it as soon as possible.  

                Hermione didn't know why she'd lied to them the night before.  She hadn't wanted to tell them that she was getting help from Lavender.  That she was getting help at all was bad enough.  And so she had evaded their questions by telling them that she was just spending a usual night in the library and she wanted to be alone.  She looked over at Lavender, who was sitting a few seats down.  She was giggling with Parvati about something.  Hermione smiled.  _That's the Lavender we all know._

                Suddenly, Hermione shivered with a cold feeling that someone was watching her.  She looked over at the Slytherin table and met an icy, grey stare.  _Malfoy.  _

                "Hermione?  You there?" Ron waved an oatmeal clad spoon in front of her face.

                She pulled her gaze from Malfoy, a little unnerved by his blatant watching, and looked at Ron.

                "What?  What'd you say?"

                "I said I'm going to visit Hagrid after this.  Do you want to come with me?" Ron answered giving her weird look.

                "Of course.  Aren't you coming, Harry?"

                "No, I want to talk to Dumbledore," he told her, forking a piece of sausage into his mouth.

                "Oh.  What about?" Hermione wanted to know.

                "Erm…nothing important.  Just a few…er…things I want to ask him about the…uh…new Dark Arts professor," Harry answered nervously.

                "Oh really?  Do you want me to come?  I'd like to ask him about…" Hermione was cut off forcefully by a loud, "No," from Harry.

                "I mean…no.  I'd rather go alone.  You know.  So it doesn't look like we think there's something completely off about her," he reasoned lamely.

                "Oh," Hermione said dejectedly, "Yeah.  You're right, I suppose."

                Harry shifted uncomfortably on the bench.  What he really wanted to talk to Dumbledore about was where he was going to live next summer.  But as Ron and Hermione didn't technically know yet, that he had been thrown out, he couldn't tell them the truth just then.

                Ron and Hermione left shortly after and walked through the halls to the corridor that led outside into one of the small courtyards, and also, down to Hagrid's. (A/N Ok I have no idea how they actually get out of the school.  I hardly think they use massive wooden doors that students can hardly open…so I reckon I'll just keep it the way I have.   Any problems, tell me.)

                "Do you, do you think Harry's hiding something?" Ron asked hesitantly.

                "Yes!  I didn't want to say anything in the Hall, but I knew he was lying," Hermione breathed a huge sigh of relief.

                Ron grinned, "What do you think it was?"

                Hermione shook her head as they stepped onto the stone path, "I don't know.  It could be anything.  You know how Harry is."

***

                Harry watched his friends leave.  As soon as they were out of sight, he got up from the table and went out into the hall.  He started down the way he'd seen the headmaster go when he'd left.  He passed the Girl's bathroom just as Ron's cousin, Susan was coming out.  

                "Harry!"

                "Susan!" Harry exclaimed with much less enthusiasm than the young first year.

                "How are you?" Susan asked with fervour, as if Harry's well-being was all that mattered in life.

                Harry was rather surprised by her vehemence.  She had seemed quite the opposite when he had met her at the sorting.  He hadn't really paid attention to her since.  She seemed to have found a bosom friend in the second year Dennis Creevey.  They appeared to be quite inseparable, after only knowing one another for a week and a half or so.  And true to it, Dennis came sauntering up moments later and took a spot next to Susan while violently shaking Harry's hand.

                "Harry!  Good to see you!  Would you mind signing this for me?  I've got a little cousin who adores you.  Doesn't shut up.  You can't imagine what it's like.  I can't stand him sometimes.  Not that I don't like hearing about you, Harry, but he just goes on and on, and, well surely you know how annoying little kids are," Dennis smiled and handed Harry a small autograph book.  

                Harry returned Dennis' smile painfully.  He knew quite well how annoying some people could be.  Dennis was a lot more talkative that Colin, if it was possible.  Harry opened the book, which was empty except for a small, illegible signature on the first page.  

                "That's Mildred Tingle's signature.  Fantastic, isn't it?" Dennis told Harry as he wrote his own name in the top right corner.

                Harry nodded, having absolutely no idea who Mildred Tingle was.  He gave the book back, a little anxious to get away from him.  He hated when people asked him to do dumb things, like show them his scar or sign an autograph, but he had learned to just do it as quickly as possible and they usually went away content.

                "Hey, Harry.  Is it true you can do a Patronus?  Like a _real _one?" the youngest Creevey boy wanted to know.  Susan's eyes widened at this, and she leaned forward to hear his answer.

                Adjusting his robes in discomfort, Harry told them he could.

                "Wow!  That's amazing.  I heard that it was really advanced magic," Dennis said.

                "It is.  I just had to study for a long time.  It's not like I could do it right away," Harry tried to make it sound like he wasn't that great.  Anything for a bit of normalcy.

                "Right, right," Dennis nodded, not believing him, "Listen, I was wondering…would you mind tutoring me and a couple of friends in Defence Against the Dark Arts?  We're all having a bit of trouble, and well, since you're so good…we were just wondering."

                Harry was completely taken aback.  Teaching one class, once, was enough.  Now someone wanted him to tutor them?  Harry Potter?  That was usually Hermione's department.  But Harry was desperate to get away from the two over eager students.

                "S-sure, Dennis.  I've just got to go now.  Meeting Dumbledore. Bye." he smiled nervously, and took off down the hall at a fast pace.

                He approached the statue, hoping the password was still the same.

                "Bouncing Bellyflots," Harry commanded.  Almost instantly, the gargoyle sprang open to reveal the stairs leading to the headmaster's office.  Harry ascended them quickly, still quite anxious for some reason.  As if Dennis' friends were just lurking around the corner to jump on him and drag him away to teach them some spells right then.  As soon as he reached the top, he let go of the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.  Dumbledore sat at his desk, while a woman in a pale green dress sat across from him, with her back to Harry.  The headmaster looked up at his student, and paused in the middle of what he was saying to greet him.  

                "Harry, splendid that you came.  I was going to send someone after you, but as you're here now, I won't have to do that, eh?" Dumbledore's wrinkle surrounded eyes, twinkled brightly.

                "Em….yes, Professor.  But you've someone here," Harry noted.  The woman hadn't yet turned around, but somehow, her short, curly brown hair looked familiar.

                "Tut, tut.  She's here for you, Harry," Dumbledore told him.

                Harry's brown furrowed in confusion.  But as the woman turned around, his expression changed into one of intense shock.

                "Aunt Petunia?"

**Von** :  Thanks again, mate for that flame.  Although  I don't know if it can be really considered that, because, well you weren't really making me sound bad.  But anyway thanks for it.  It was majorly helpful and I hope you like the revision better.  Yes, Petunia is here.  But I have decided to create a loophole.  I mean, she know's about magic, so why shouldn't she be allowed at the school.  What about all the other Muggle born's parents?  What if they wanna see there kids?  Does hat make sense?   Hope it does anyway.  And, I thought about what you said about Lavender, and yeah I agree, so I booted her outta this chapter.  I don't really have any plans for her quite yet.  I've got them for Dean…he's about the only one.  I have something, hopefully, really good for him, that I hope you don't guess till it happens.  But if you have any suggestions for the other characters, let them be known, but preferably in a private email, so it doesn't ruin it for the other peoples who read my story, yeah?  Thanks again.  Oh and wow, I can't believe you mentioned that I update fast.  That's one of my strange qualities.  I have leaving people waiting.  Like on Msn and stuff, I always answer quickly. Weird quirk of mine.  Oh well.  I'll try to keep it up.

**princess55** : Vernon didn't leave her and Dud, she left them!  But yeah, how could she do it eh?  I know it's a bit far-fetched but I figure I'm entitled to something like that every once in a while.  Anyway, tell me what you think of this chapter.  For character development, it isn't all that different, except from Lavender.  So, oh well.   Thanks for the reviews!

**Samantha **: Hey new reviewer, Samantha!  Sorry I changed this chapter.  I tried to get rid of the haziness, better?  Thanks for reviewing and I'm glad you like this story.  That makes me happy.


	10. Petunia?

**Disclaimer: It's not mine.  Are these things necessary each time?**

**Chapter 10: Petunia?**

                Petunia Dursley looked at her nephew nervously.  He looked a little more tired that the last time she had seen him.  Understandable.  She felt responsible for it, though.  Guilty.  She wrung her hands in anticipation.  Harry was staring at her, open mouthed; stunned.  She hadn't expected anything else.  After all, she had done nothing to stop her husband from disowning him.

                "What…what are you doing here?" Harry stuttered.

                Petunia sucked in her breath and made to answer, but Dumbledore did it for her.

                "Your aunt has informed me of your situation, Harry.  She has come on her own accord and wishes to put everything right."

                Harry was beyond confused and he gladly took a seat on the soft, plush chair Dumbledore conjured for him.  He watched the headmaster nod to his aunt.  She looked different.  Tense and uncomfortable.  The usual air of supremacy that she had become accustomed to breathing had vanished, and she was left with a chilly, lonesome breath.

                "I never meant for this to happen, Harry," she began in a sad whisper.  She raised her head to look into his eyes, determined for him to know the truth.  "Vernon, he didn't know.  It wasn't supposed to be this way." She took a breath to calm herself.  She could see that she was only making Harry more confused.  "I promised your mother that I would take care of you, Harry, if anything should happen to her.  A promise as her sister, as your aunt.  As family.  And I broke that promise.  I let Vernon destroy it without question.  I feel, you cannot know.  To break an oath…" she let out a breath of frustration.  What could she tell him?  She felt like a monster for all the years he had endured without love but filled with cruelty and there wasn't any way to apologize for something like that.  

                "How did you get here?" Harry demanded.  His tone was firm but held sympathy for the woman in front of him.  At least she had come.

                "I contacted the professor," she nodded toward Dumbledore, "And he arranged for me to come."

                "Harry, you must realize that with Voldemort regaining his powers, you are in grave danger.  Without a home, he can get to you.  A home is protection.  As is a family," the headmaster explained.

                Harry looked down at the floor.  He felt guilty.  But why?  It wasn't even his fault.  Uncle Vernon had thrown him out!  What was he to do?  His aunt was watching him, as if expecting a slap across the face.  Harry didn't know what to think of her.  For his whole life, she had treated him as inferior.  As nothing.  And now she suddenly wanted to help him.  It was all too much.  A sudden gush of anger and betrayal coursed through his body.

                "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?  He threw me out," Harry shouted, "I had no choice."  He felt trapped.  He needed to get out of there.  He leapt from his chair and started towards the stairs.  He knew Dumbledore wouldn't follow him.  As he ran down the steps, he could hear the old man telling his aunt, "Let him go."

***

                Hermione knocked on the door of Hagrid's hut and went in without waiting for an answer.  Ron followed close behind.  They entered to find Hagrid dangling a piece of red meat in front of Fang.  Upon seeing Ron and Hermione enter, he let the steak drop into the boarhound's ready mouth.  He stood up and gave them a big smile.

                "Ron! Hermione!  What are yeh doin' 'ere?" he bellowed happily.

                "We've just come for a visit, Hagrid, to see how you're doing," Hermione told him.

                "Well that's mighty sweet of yeh.  Have a seat won't yeh?" he drew two chairs to the table and motioned for them to sit.  As he went to his stove to make some tea and pull out some muffins from the oven, he asked, "Where's Harry now?"

                "Oh, uh, well he went to see Professor Dumbledore.  Dunno what for.  Wouldn't tell us anything," Ron complained.

                "Ah well, I reckon he's just havin' a bit of a rough year eh?  What with You-Know-Who rising again," Hagrid shuddered at the thought.  He shook off the cold feeling that came from thinking of the Dark Lord and took the tea and muffins to the table.  Handing Ron and Hermione a cup and pastry each, he sat down to enjoy the morning sunshine that surged in through the windows.

                From experience, the two Hogwart's students knew never to eat any of Hagrid's baking.  One was more likely to break a tooth than to slake one's hunger.  They both casually slipped their muffins under the table to the awaiting Fang while Hagrid looked out the window.  

                "Will you be coming back to teach soon, Hagrid?" Hermione asked, taking a sip from her bucket of tea.  Although she liked the young Beaubaxton graduate who was currently filling in, having Hagrid back would mean he was ok, and Hermione wanted to be sure.

                "Oh, 'spect in a few days I'll be as right as rain," the giant of a man smiled affectionately at the small bushy haired girl.  

                For the some time, the three companions sat comfortably in the homey hut, talking and sipping tea.  But while they were all so comfortable, Harry sat in an empty room, enveloped in cold stone walls.  After running off from Dumbledore's office, he had searched angrily for a place to hide away from prying eyes.  It seemed that everyone in the castle wanted him to do something.  More students had approached him about teaching them some extra Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Harry had ignored them and done everything possible to find a place void of the wanting pleas that plagued him.  He finally found himself in a safe place, where only one person could bother him.  Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.  Although it begrudged him to have to resort to a girl's bathroom that was haunted by a whining ghost no less, he needed to sit and gather his thoughts.  He slumped against the cool concrete of the sink and closed his eyes.  He sat that way for a while, trying to figure out his emotions.  Was he supposed to forgive his aunt?  Albeit of all the Dursleys he felt the least hatred towards her, he did still feel _some contempt.  A lifetime of cruelty forgotten by a single apology?  The pain that stung his heart so deeply from being ignored all those years, could not be mended by one hug.  Learning to trust someone, to love them, took time.  Sometimes, forever.  _

                "Harry?  Is that you?" the ghostly figure of the notorious Moaning Myrtle floated through the door of the fourth bathroom stall.  

                Harry looked up at the transparent girl and gave her a small smile.  At least she wasn't looking for him to tutor her.  

                "Hey, Myrtle," Harry replied tiredly.

                "Harry, why haven't you come to visit me?  You promised you would?  Or don't you want to be seen with pitiful, b-blubbering, Moaning Myrtle??"  Is that it?" she let out a long wail and flew back into her stall, violently slammed the door and began beating it with all her might. (A/N I dunno if she actually can touch the door, but let's just pretend she can, ok?  Good readers.  Have a cookie.)

                Harry sighed.  Just his luck.  

                "Myrtle!  Myrtle!  Come on, now.  I didn't mean to make you feel bad.  I've been busy, and just…" he trailed off, trying to think of just what he was.

                Myrtle's thrashing stopped and she peered cautiously from behind the door.  

                "Just, what?" she asked timidly.

                "I don't know.  I'm just having trouble.  Do you…do you ever feel like nothing will ever be right again?"

                The raven-haired girl looked at him queerly.  "All the time," she whispered, "I'm dead."

                Harry knotted his forehead in understanding at the truth of her words. 

                "What is it, Harry?  What's wrong?" she floated over to him and took a seat beside him on the floor.  As he began explaining to her the emotional struggle he was having, she nodded sagely.  Understanding his unhappiness.  But although she wanted to feel bad for him, she couldn't quite ignore the tiny bubble of joy at having someone be as miserable as her.  

                "I suppose I ought to go and speak to them," Harry said, referring to his aunt and the headmaster.

                Myrtle nodded sadly.  She watched Harry get up and leave the bathroom with a distant wave.  She sighed.  Everyone was always leaving her.

                Harry walked down the long corridor from Myrtle's bathroom, feeling somewhat better from having told someone, even a ghost, about his problems.  His feet quickly led him to the stone gargoyle statue where he once again entered the headmaster's office.  He found his aunt quietly sipping a cup of tea while Dumbledore sat back in his chair twiddling his thumbs and whistling a familiar tune. (A/N Hehe, I wanted that in there, so I put it back.)  They were apparently waiting for him, because as soon as he entered they stood up and Petunia placed her cup on the headmaster's desk.  She spoke in a nervous tone again, making her seem unreal, not herself, to Harry, "Won't you…sit down?"

                Harry looked at the soft, cushiony chair that still sat awaiting him.  He went to it and eased himself down, glancing tensely at the other two people in the room.  

                "I'm...uh…sorry, I ran off.  It's just, I'm getting a little overwhelmed, I guess," Harry told them.

                The headmaster nodded sagaciously.

                "And, I'm ready to talk…_and listen."_

                "Petunia, I think it would be best if you explained how you came to Hogwarts and what you plan to do, hmm?" Dumbledore advised.

                "Well, I left Vernon and Dudley, Harry," she began, taking her seat again, "I couldn't bear to be at home with them.  They…they were ignoring me, for betraying them."

                "Betraying them?  How?" Harry was curious.

                "You remember the day you left?  When I…hugged you?"  Harry nodded.  He could see that this was difficult for her.  "They thought that I was helping you.  That I had been lying to them somehow.  I don't know.  I don't understand what they were thinking.  I was so confused.  But I couldn't go on without knowing that you were safe.  So I wrote to Professor Dumbledore and explained to him the situation.  I told him that I needed to talk to him.  I needed advice.  I know I'm what you would call a Muggle, it would be difficult in the magical world, but I want what's best for you, Harry.  And I'm prepared to do what it takes.  I realize now, how heartless we have all been to you.  I love my husband and son very much.  And I love you.  And I will not break my oath to Lily.  I will not let anything happen to you.  Some things are meant to happen.  So, what do you want to do, Harry?  I know that Vernon would never allow you back into the house.  I don't know if he'd allow me back, after I've left him to come here.  He was awfully mad when I told him what I was doing. " Petunia fumbled with the strap on the handbag that rested in her lap.

                "Are you saying that you would, move into the magical world?  With just me?" Harry was completely mystified.

                Petunia forced her hands to stop.  "Yes, Harry.  If that's what it takes.  I know I can never make up to you the horrible years that we put you through, but I will try.  We could live anywhere.  M-muggle or wizard town.  It's up to you."

                Harry still couldn't believe his ears.  This was his aunt.  The woman who, for years had shoved him aside as she lovingly doted on the other members of her family.  The woman who had kept him in a cupboard for half his life, never stood up for him when his uncle punished him or his cousin tried to beat him to a pulp.  She was saying that she'd move out of number 4 Privet Drive and set up a home for just the two of them.  He would never have thought her capable of such drastic action, but the absolute seriousness of her expression showed him that she was not joking.  

                "Are you sure?" Harry asked slowly.

                Petunia nodded and gave him a small, yet hopeful smile.

                Harry relaxed and returned her smile with a large and gleeful one.  He could feel his life changing.  His future becoming clearer and happier.  It was a moment worthy of producing a Patronus.  But before he could express his ecstasy, two red-faced, panting Gryffindors ran into the room.

                "Professor Dumbledore, please come quick.  It's Hagrid," Hermione spoke as fast as she could.

                "What is it?" the headmaster asked, his voice raising slightly in alarm.

                "He's having another relapse.  A bad one," Ron explained.

                The professor sighed, but made no move to leave.

                "I was afraid it might come to this," he confessed sadly.

                "Afraid it would come to what?" Hermione asked urgently, quite anxious that things be sorted out and Hagrid be attended to as soon as possible.

                "Hagrid will have to go to St. Mungo's."

**princess55** : Ahhh, I see.  Yes, I see your point.  Hmmm.  Well, I just said that he got mad, as you can see.  Does that work?  I mean she could have just said she would be back, or something.  I'll leave that to your imagination.  I'm so glad you keep reviewing.  You're very motivating.  Thanks!!!

**Von **:  Ok, so not a flame then.  Just a very honest review?  Hehe.  I don't consider it bad if it helps me see what's wrong with my writing and my story.  I'm glad you like the newer chapter nine.  What about this one.  *cringes while she waits for the final result….  Do you think Petunia's just way wrong for this?  I try to make it seem like she just felt so shown up by her sister all her life so she feels hatred towards Harry because he's Lily's offspring, but really, she was holding the grudge against Lily herself not Harry.  Or does it seem a little too unrealistic?  Man I never realized writing a story could be so confusing.  I want Harry to be happy, but it's so damn hard, eh?  Anyway, thanks for the reviews yet again.  Please keep them coming.  They mean a lot to me.

**Samantha** :  Glad you approve of the new chapter.  Hermione's feelings will show, hopefully in one of the next few chapters.  The plot is starting to form in my mind, and she will play a big part, I think.  Just wait!  Thanks for reviewing!

A/N  Ahhh, glad I got positiveness for the new chapter 9.  Makes me feel better, but I am very apprehensive about this one.  I brought Myrtle in because she gets way too little attention.  But she's totally not playing a big part in this at all, so don't really expect more of her.  What a hypocrite I am.  HAHAHAHA.  Anyway, I'm not sure how this chapter will fair…I had a really hard time writing it.  I'm trying to keep some itty bitty cliffies, but as I have said before, I suck at them.  I have plans definitely for Hermione and Dean, not really for anyone else, well maybe Petunia, but I dunno.  Anyway, let me know what you thought of this chapter, hopefully I won't have to rewrite again.  But I do aim to please my reviewers.  Thanks! 


	11. Let Down

Disclaimer :It's not mine, it's not mine, it's not mine, etc… does that get me off the hook for a few chapters?

**Chapter 11: Let Down**

                Harry, Ron and Hermione all looked on at the giant of a man lying in the white hospital sheets.  He seemed so weak and fragile.  So...not Hagrid.  After Professor Dumbledore had taken the groundskeeper to St. Mungo's, he had allowed the trio to visit him on Sunday.  And there they stood, distressed at their friend's continued illness.  It wasn't fair.  

                Harry left the bedside and went out into the hall.  He sat in a large, purple visitor's chair and fingered the scar that was causing him so much pain.  Voldemort must be very happy.  He was ruining everyone's lives.  But Hagrid's dilemma wasn't the only thing bothering him.  He remembered how he had felt the day before, when his aunt had promised him love.  It had been a strange, yet welcome feeling, all to be taken away in a matter of hours.  After settling Hagrid in at the hospital and getting a nurse to tend to him, and returning to school, Dumbledore had asked Harry to take a walk with him on the grounds.  Petunia had long since gone home.  A look of regret crossed had her face before turning around and walking away from the school.  She knew Harry would be upset when the professor told him.  She herself was upset.  She didn't want to break her oath, but she knew the headmaster made sense.  It just couldn't happen.  They were part of two different worlds, and an oath in one, is quite different from the other.  Sometimes more than a promise is needed.  She deeply lamented not being able to do anything but at least she had tried.  Lily couldn't deny her that.

                Harry had been somewhat startled at the headmaster's request for a walk.  He didn't really feel up for it.  He wanted to wallow in misery.  One of his friends was in St. Mungo's all because of Voldemort.  Anger thrashed about his insides at the thought of the Dark Lord.  But despite his want to be alone, Dumbledore had insisted that it was important.  The evening had gotten chilly and Harry tucked his cloak closely around him.  Dumbledore had a troubled look on his face.  

                "Harry, I realize that you might wish to live with your aunt, but…I am afraid that it will not be possible," the headmaster sighed.

                Harry's head snapped up.  Not possible?  But he…he'd been there.  He'd heard her.  

                "What?  But why not?" Harry demanded rather forcefully.

                "She did not tell me of her plans.  I heard them for the first time, when you did.  I had assumed that she would take you back to Privet Drive, but I see now, that that will not happen.  I have explained to her why it couldn't work."

                "But why can't it?  She's family.  I'd have a home," Harry didn't understand how that could not be enough.

                "She is only part of your family, Harry.  As much as you might like to deny it, your uncle and cousin are part of your family too.  Without them, it offers no protection.  I cannot force them to take you back if it is their wish that you remain away."

                "But if I'm not with them, any of them, then I won't have any family at all and I'll be completely alone," Harry tried not to sound like he was feeling sorry for himself, but he couldn't help it.  Nobody wanted him.

                "No, you will never be alone.  Not with friends.  However, you are still without a home.  I will have to find you a suitable place to stay next summer.  A safe place.  Harry," the headmaster let out a long breath, "I am sorry it had to come to this.  To take to your happiness away so quickly after it had come.  But do not worry, I will find somewhere for you to live."  Dumbledore left Harry standing in front of an old oak tree that grew at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.  Harry watched the old wizard walk towards to castle, feeling as if everyone was just trying to pass him off to someone else.  Nobody wanted him.  Now he understood the look Aunt Petunia had given him.  Oh well.  A strong feeling that he would never see her again, came over him and he wasn't sure if he ought to be glad or sad.  She had tried, but maybe she had tried because she knew it could not work, he thought bitterly.  That was probably it.  She felt a little guilty that she had betrayed her sister, but she didn't actually want the responsibility of looking after him.  Everything in the past day seemed like a dream.  Impossible situations, impossible to believe.

                Now, as Harry sat in the waiting room, he wondered who Dumbledore could find to watch over him.  Having his luck, it would probably be someone awful, like Snape.  Harry shuddered at the thought.

                A few moments later, Ron and Hermione came out.  Hermione's eyes were red and swollen.  Ron had on a brave face, but Harry knew that he would rather be crying for their friend.  Hagrid was currently unconscious.  The Healers didn't know if he would wake up.  The after effects of the Dementus Curse were becoming more severe.  Only dark wizards used the curse and it wasn't commonly known to be used even by them, so they weren't sure how to stop the terrors floating through Hagrid's mind.

                "I-I can't imagine what it's like," Hermione sobbed, "He must be in such terrible pain."

***

                The days after that fateful Saturday flew by.  The Hogwart's teachers were doling out home as if there were no tomorrows.  Preparing them for the OWLs.  Hermione and Dean seemed to be the only ones who could keep up with it all.  How they managed it, no one knew.  Besides the homework, they both had prefect duties every other night of the week.  And Hermione was still, unbeknownst to everyone else, secretly studying Defence Against the Dark Arts with Lavender whenever she could.  On top of all that, she still had frequent run-ins with Malfoy that left her bewildered and somewhat disheartened.  She couldn't ignore_ everything_ he said.  

                Harry and Ron were barely scraping by.  They tended to want to play Exploding Snap or Wizard's Chess, rather than do homework.  They were often found in the common room in the wee hours of the morning, scribbling furiously on blotchy pieces of parchment for essays due right after breakfast.  Hermione tried to help them whenever she could, but all work and no play was beginning to take its toll on her.  She was always tired and she was growing very thin.  She was apt to run to the Great Hall, grab a piece of toast and rush back to the common room to resume her studies.  Quite often, though, she failed to show up for meals at all.  

                As for Harry teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, Professor Artemisia continued to ask him to take over for the Patronus Charm.  He found it rather dull.  Having only to reiterate what he had told them all during his first class.  He walked around the room for the time, every once in a while patting someone on the shoulder for doing a good job or telling someone to find a happier memory than the one they were using.  Hermione and Dean were neck and neck for best in the class.  But even with all her practicing, Hermione fell somewhat short of beating the dark-skinned boy.  

***

                As Harry walked out to the Quidditch pitch one day after class, he was ambushed by a young and eager second year.  

                "Hi, Dennis," Harry trying to hide his exasperation.  He was in no mood to talk.  Dumbledore had told him that there had been no change in Hagrid's condition.  It was not news that he wanted to dwell upon and Quidditch seemed to be the only thing that helped ease his mind.

                "Hiya, Harry!  Just going to Quidditch practice then, are you?" Dennis asked.

                _Master of the obvious, thought Harry, __Wonder what tipped him off.  Could it have been perhaps, my broom?  My gear?  My walking to the pitch?_

                "Er, yeah.  I am.  We've got our first game against Ravenclaw in a few weeks, do you mind?" Harry said politely, "Alicia will get mad if I'm late." 

                "Right.  Mind if I walk with you?"

                "Erm…sure, Dennis.  Is there something you want?" Harry desperately wanted the boy to leave, but couldn't think of any polite way to say it.

                "Well, yeah, actually.  I was wondering when you could start teaching my friends and me some of the Defence Against Dark Arts."

                Harry mentally groaned.  He had forgotten his promise to the young boy.

                "Right…uh well, it might be hard to find a time.  I mean I've got OWLs this year…" when he saw the look of utter desolation on Dennis' face he quickly went on, "but I'm sure I can find sometime.  Talk to me…uh…tomorrow, at lunch."  At this, Harry sprinted off; waving goodbye to the young Gryffindor, hopeful that Alicia might take pity on him and not yell at him too much for being late.

                "We've already gone over tactics, Harry!  Now get on your broom and start warm-up," Alicia yelled as Harry jogged onto the pitch.    He sighed, but mounted his broom and flew off to do a few laps.  It didn't turn out to be a very good practice.  Harry found he just couldn't concentrate.  The rest of his team mates were doing ok, but they were definitely not up to snuff.  Alicia found this incredibly aggravating.  Every five seconds she was flying over to a new player to tell them what they were doing wrong.  Fred and George finally got sick of it and announced that they were going to quit if she wasn't a little more supportive.  The Gryffindor captain turned red at the statement.

                "I'm sorry guys," she apologized as she signalled them all to come in.  They landed in the middle of the pitch where Alicia tried to justify her actions.  "It's just hard.  We're all so out of practice."

                "Speak for yourself," George muttered softly so she wouldn't hear.

                "I really want to win this year.  For a lot of us," she looked at the other seventh years, "it's our last year.  And I personally would like to leave this school with the cup."

                "Here, here!" Fred shouted.

                Alicia smiled and tossed her broom over her shoulder.  "Ok.  That's enough practice for today.  But I want you all out here, bright and early, Thursday morning."

                The team collectively groan at the word 'early,' but promised their captain they'd be there.  Harry joined the Weasley twins as they trudged up to the castle.  

                "So what do you think of the new Dark Arts professor, Harry?" George wanted to know, "I heard she's got you teaching the whole class now."

                Harry shrugged.  "Yeah.  Just for the Patronus Charm.  I don't know about her.  She seems so ordinary, that I'm inclined to think that she'll be the worst teacher of the lot.  What do you know about her?"

                "Just what she told us in class.  But I agree with you.  She seems too normal to be good," Fred told him.

                As the three Quidditch players walked into the castle, they were silent, each thinking of some horror that could be true about the Dark Arts professor.  Reaching the common room, the twins bade goodbye to Harry and rushed up the stairs to their rooms.  Harry walked over to a chair and flopped down into its squishy cushions.  The room was empty except for a few students who sat by one of the large windows, quizzing each other for an upcoming History test.  Harry leaned forward in his chair to un-strap his shin guards.  He flung those, along with his other protective equipment, onto the nearest couch.  Feeling somewhat lighter, he forced himself to get up from the chair and make his way up to his room.  Dean Thomas was sitting on his bed, engrossed in the latest edition of _Hogwarts: A History._

                "Wow!  You mean there are actually people besides Hermione who read that book?" Harry joked as he eased out of his Quidditch robes.

                Dean rolled his eyes and chuckled.  "It's actually kind of interesting.  I mean, did you know that the longest stretch for a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was three years, back in 1784?  Someone named…Zaedea Mortella"

                Harry pondered this information.  "I guess Artemisia hasn't got a hope in hell, then.  I'm still trying to figure out what's wrong with her."

                "Oh?  There has to be some flaw?"  Dean questioned.

                "Think about it.  Dumbledore wouldn't just hire anybody.  He specializes in one-year contracts.  And since he can't very well kick them out with no explanation, he probably picks people he knows are going to foul up somehow," Harry reasoned jokingly.

                Dean grinned.  Putting his book down on his bed, he got up and went to the door.  He waited for Harry to finish changing before saying, "Let's go get some dinner, I'm starved."

                Harry nodded and followed him out, down the stairs to the common room.  Harry glanced over at the students who were still quizzing each other, when he slammed forcefully into Dean's back.

                "S-sorry, Harry," he laughed nervously "Just…just can't make my feet go sometimes."

                "Uh…yeah.  Happens to me all the time," Harry told him, thinking it a little weird, but trying to make him feel better.

                They went out the portrait and walked in silence to the Great Hall.  Harry spotted Hermione and Ron sitting near the other end of the room and, leaving Dean to sit with Seamus who was near the door, went to sit with them.

                Hermione was eating quickly.  Although Ron had finally convinced her to actually come down for dinner, she still had a lot of work she wanted to get done.  She also had a meeting with Lavender that night.

                "Right.  I've got to be off," she said, shoving one last spoonful of stew in her mouth before taking off from the Great Hall.  Harry jumped a little by her sudden movements.  When she was gone, he asked, "Was it something I did?"

                Ron shook his head, "She's been acting strange ever since…well, since Hagrid went to St. Mungo's.  I dunno.  I think she's jut working too hard."

                "Yeah.  You know, I reckon she hasn't actually slept in over a week.  Halloween's almost here and I bet she'll study her way through the entire feast."

                Ron laughed at the probable truth of Harry's statement.

                "How was Quidditch practice?"

                "Alright.  No, it stunk.  Couldn't concentrate.  I've just got so much on my mind lately, you know?"

                Ron shook his head once more, "No, I don't really.  You don't really tell me much these days."  He stared at a large piece of carrot in his stew.  

                A sad look crossed Harry's face.  "Merlin, I'm sorry, mate.  It's just…well…" he looked around to see if anyone was listening and took a deep breath, "The Durlsey's have, well, they threw me out."

**A/N Gasp!  How will our favourite Weasley react?  I know.  I'm just the most fabulous cliffhanger…er you have ever seen.  Am I right?  Haha, sigh.  Anyway.  Finally got rid of Petunia.  It took me a while to think of a good way to do it, since I kinda agreed with Von that she wasn't really right for the part.  But I think I may have someone else lined up for the job of Harry's new caretaker.  Who will it be?  Mwahahaha, I know, I'm pathetic.  Have pity.  **

**Sorry bout my rambling, I felt like putting my message first, after such a magnificent cliffie.  Now onto my faithful reviewers.  **

**Von** :  Hmmm, about the beta thing, I just might take you up on that.  Later though.  I want everyone's opinion on this one right now.  Thanks for the offer though.  Greatly appreciated. I must agree that you went a little psycho on me, but hell, we all do from time to time, eh?  Anyway, what you said about Vernon, sadly, I think must be kept for another story, as it did not really flow with this one.  I don't plan on having Harry go home anytime soon, or at all.  Maybe, to the new guardian's place, but I dunno.  Thestrals, I must get to work on them.  I'm still trying to think of a plausible explanation for that.  I agree that Harry might forget seeing his parents die, but he _did_ see them, so I don't think it really matters.  Anyway, keep reviewing.  Thanks!

**Princess55**:  Yeah.  You did review the 10th chapter, technically, but not the last one, because I had to change em all around.  I'm glad it makes sense now.  I know, I have trouble with sense.  One of those annoying little buggers I just want to kill sometimes.  Sense, bah, who needs it.  ;)  Thanks for taking time to actually e-mail me since ff didn't let you review the other way.  Means a lot to me!

**Samantha:** Ahh, your whistling makes me happy.  Hehe, I'm such a nerd but I'm very happy that you are enjoying my story!  Keep reviewing!


	12. Traitor

Disclaimer: Not mine.  Belongs to a…sigh…_published writer._

**Chapter 12: Traitor**

                Ron was silent.  The hand that had been mindlessly stirring his unwanted stew froze at Harry's words.  Threw him out?  For a moment, Ron was at a complete loss for words, not that that was all that uncommon.  How could they?  Wasn't there a law against things like that?  It was strange, scary even, to think that the Boy-Who-Lived was actually homeless.  Wizards and witched who had never laid eyes on him in real life would have given their wands just to be near him, and his own family was deserting him?  Where was the justice?

                As Harry watched his best friend freeze at his words, a whirl of thoughts blew through his mind.  Even the most confident man, can be crushed by the stupidest things.  Would Ron think that he really was a wretched excuse for a wizard?  Someone not even his own family liked?  Maybe he was disgusted.  Maybe he wouldn't want to be friends with such a miserable boy.  But even though Harry was somewhat afraid of Ron's silence, it was nothing compared to the guilt he felt when his best mate spoke, "Why didn't you tell me?" and cast his eyes once again down at the table.  The betrayal Harry heard in Ron's voice was completely unexpected.  Of all the reactions he had anticipated, this had been shoved far into the back of his mind.  But as soon as he heard it, it came shooting forward with a knowing air.  

                Harry gulped.  "Ron.  I-I'm sorry.  I didn't even think…I've just been really…" he could find no words to justify keeping such a thing from his friend, even for a short time.  Ron was right.  As much as Harry hated to admit it, he ought to have told him straight off.  Perhaps he and Hermione could have helped him.  Or at least commiserated over his sudden exile. He sighed as his conscience defeated him.  

                "I'm sorry, Ron."

                Ron looked up, and gave him a pained smile, like he was hurt, but trying to get over it.  

                "It's ok, mate.  I'm just a little, surprised I guess," his smile turned into a worried look, "Where are you gonna live?"

                "I dunno.  My aunt showed up and offered to take me; she said she'd leave my uncle.  It was really unlike her, but I think she was probably just trying to feel less guilty about kicking me out," Harry said bitterly.  

                "Your aunt?" the tense air between lessened as Ron became seriously concerned.  This wasn't a time to worry about why Harry hadn't told him.  His friend needed him, he was there.  

                "I know," Harry nodded.  What_ had_ been going on with Aunt Petunia exactly, he wondered.  But, determined to focus on the problem at hand, he shook the thought away and looked at his best friend who had now entirely given up on his stew.

                "So Dumbledore knows?" Ron asked.

                "Yeah."

                "What's he doing about it?  What'd he say?"

                "Well, he was the one who said that I couldn't live with Aunt Petunia…" Harry started but was cut off.

                "WHAT?  Why?  He can't do that!  It's not fair."

                "Yes, he can," Harry looked around the Great Hall as students began to leave for their dorm rooms.  Harry stood up and explained everything to Ron.

                "My aunt is only part of my family.  She isn't enough to protect me anymore.  It's either all of the Dursleys, or none of them," noticing the somewhat confused look on his friend's face, he went on, "Aunt Petunia is related to me by blood.  You know how powerful that is.  Dudley is also blood.  Both Uncle Vernon's and my aunt's.  It's like having three rings linked together.  Each is attached by the one before it, any they're all one long chain.  It's sort of hard to explain…"

                Ron nodded in understanding.  Blood was a powerful thing.  Especially in the wizarding world.

                Upon arriving at the Gryffindor common room, Harry and Ron found Hermione sitting in the window seat that looked out onto the Quidditch pitch.  A large leather-bound book sat on her legs and she was writing rather messily with her right hand, while turning the page with her left.  She looked up at them only when Harry tapped her on the shoulder.  

                "Hermione, I've got to tell you something," Harry began, taking a seat by her feet.

                Biting her lip, Hermione said, "Couldn't it wait until later Harry?  I've really got to finish this essay.  I won't have any time to work on it later."

                "No.  I've got to talk to you now," Harry told her firmly.

                Sighing, Hermione looked at Ron helplessly, before closing her book and sitting back grudgingly, to listen.

                "You know how, when you picked me up that day at the Dursley's, my aunt was strangely affectionate towards me?" Harry asked.

                Hermione gave a small nod, twirling her quill impatiently and wondering if the conversation was going to take very long.  

                "Well, the reason she was, is because, that was my last day there."

                "Umm…I _know that, Harry," Hermione told him, rather confused about why she was telling her this.  _

                "No.  You don't understand.  I'm not saying that that was my last day there until I go back.  I mean that it was my last time…ever.  They've thrown me out.  I don't live there anymore."

                Hermione hand stopped immediately.  "What?" she whispered quietly.

                "I'm homeless."

                "How…how can that be?  I mean, I know you have problems there, big problems, but I thought you had to stay there.  It's safe.  Protected," worry outlined her voice.  

                "I know.  I was, but Uncle Vernon, he said I couldn't go back."

                "How can that matter?  They are your legal guardians!" Hermione was working up a temper as the injustice of the situation hit her.  Always out to help the underdog.

                "Yeah, but he said I couldn't.  And for some reason, Dumbledore isn't pushing it this year.  He said he'd find someone."

                "What about your family, Ron?" Hermione questioned.

                Looking somewhat uncomfortable, Ron opened his mouth to speak.

                "I wouldn't, Hermione," Harry answered for his best mate, "I'd never force Mrs. Weasley to take care of me.  She's got enough on her plate as it is, what with keeping Ron out of trouble, and helping Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley.  She's always doing things for everyone.  Besides, it's not protected."

                Hermione nodded.  Thoughts of her homework had flown out the window the moment she realized the situation.  While work may be important, friends were more so.  

                "I'm going to the library," she announced.  Harry and Ron shared a grin as their friend pushed past them with a determined look upon her face.  Her forgotten books and parchment left on the deep red pillows under the window.  

                "That's her solution for everything, eh mate," Ron laughed.  Somehow, Hermione's taking control of the problem had made it seem less serious.  She was always figuring out the answer to everything.  

                Harry smiled.  Hermione certainly did seem to rely on the library.  As if all the world's answers lay in those books.  Hidden away, only waiting to be found, by her of course.  The two friends both looked more at ease as they sat down in their room, minutes later, to begin their homework.  With Hermione in control, failure didn't seem possible.  She find someway for Harry to stay with someone.  

***

                The next day at lunch, Dennis Creevey and a few of his friends, made their way down to Harry's end of the table.  Harry's nerves were slightly frayed with the younger Gryffindors' constant badgering, but he tried to grin and bear it.  Finally, after much addressing to his schedule, he consented to help them with Defence Against the Dark Arts in two nights time, in the astronomy tower.  The gaggle of students left him to his mashed potatoes and pumpkin juice just as the infamous Malfoy appeared next to Hermione, who had joined Harry and Ron both in the morning and for lunch.

                The blond Slytherin looked upon her as a disgusting slug he was being forced to touch.

                "What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked, not bothering to look him in the eye.  She focused instead, the Professor Artemisia, who was talking to Professor Dumbledore at the Head Table.  

                Somewhat disturbed by her ignoring him, he tried to sound as menacing as possible, but failed, "Look at me, Mudblood."

                Hermione sighed, as she was rather intrigued by the seemingly intense conversation that was going on between the headmaster and the Dark Arts professor, but she tore her gaze away and looked fearlessly into the eyes of her enemy.

                "What?" she said coldly.

                Harry and Ron watched in slight apprehension as Hermione faced the evil Malfoy with apparent audacity.  They had to admit: she was not letting him bully her around this year.  

                "I've just come from McGonagall's office.  She wanted me to give you this," he held out a small piece of parchment and dropped it into the palm she opened for him.  Having done his duty, he stalked off, visibly annoyed to have had to do something even remotely nice for the filthy Muggle-born.  

                Hermione watched Malfoy walk away, slightly suspicious of his actions.  It wasn't everyday that he would willingly deliver anything to her.  Even for a teacher.  The Transfigurations professor must have been pretty strict to get the Slytherin to play messenger for her.  Strict, and desperate.  

                Hermione unfolded the parchment and read what was written.

                _I must speak with you immediately.  I am in my office.  _

Hermione frowned.  What could be so important that couldn't wait until after class?  She shrugged, but stood up and slung her book bag over her shoulder and told the boys that McGonagall wanted to talk.  

                As she walked through the empty halls to her favourite teacher's office, the silence disturbed her.  She didn't like walking around on her own very much.  It was eerie.  Especially in the Hogwart's castle.  

She quickly opened the door upon her arrival and stepped inside.  Hermione looked around the room.  Neat and orderly, just like her.  That was perhaps why McGonagall was her favourite teacher.  They were so much alike.  Parchment was stacked tidily on one corner of the dark, oak desk; a quill lay beside a well of ink.  The shelves were stuffed with books.  Large volumes of everything imaginable, that made Hermione want to pull them all down and read them right then.  Portraits of well known witches and wizards decorated the stone walls.  Some were resting lazily in chairs, while other were having heated arguments in low tones with other pictures.  Hermione strained to hear them, but it was as if they had been muted.  

                Professor McGonagall was standing by the window wringing her hands nervously; an action that set Hermione on edge.  McGonagall was rarely nervous.  Hermione took a seat on the stiff, blue-cushioned chair that sat in front of the desk.  Professor McGonagall took her own seat and tried to steady her hands.

                "Ms. Granger," she began, "No doubt you are wondering why I asked you here so urgently."

                Hermione nodded.  Yes, the thought had crossed her mind.  Only someone with no other choice would send Malfoy with a note for _her_.

                "I am going to put this bluntly.  There is a traitor among us.  One of our students."

**A/N: Yay!!!  Finally!  After many afternoons practicing volleyball, I finally have time to write.  It took me forever to get back in the swing of things, but I did.  And I started getting into the big conflict.  Ooooh, who is the traitor?  Malfoy?  Lavender?  Could be anyone!!!! What will happen to Harry?  So many questions.  Anyway, I want to apologize for making you wait so long for this chapter.  I came to school and for a while I didn't even have internet and then I got it and blah blah this whole big mess.  But now it's working.  However, I am going to be honest now and say that I find it very doubtful that I will continue with the same speed I had updating this summer.  My school promises to be very full of work.  Anyway, I will try to post as much as possible.  Hope you liked this chap.  I kinda did.  ***All my chapters are screwed up so I'm not sure which reviews I should be answering but hopefully I get em right.**

**Von:**  I'm SOOO glad you approved of my nice little cliffhanger.  I hope I didn't disappoint you too much with Ron's reaction.  I wasn't going to have him give up on Harry at all, because it just didn't fit.  Ron's so forgiving.  Snort, chuckle!!  HAHA, yeah right.  I just wanted him to be this time.  K so I hope I answered your questions about the blood thing.  I'm still not quite sure who I'm going to put him with, but have no fear, he will be homeless for quite a while yet.  Thanks for reviewing!!!

**Princess55:**  Lol, yeah boarding school.  It's my fourth high school. I like to travel.  It's fun.  Sorry for taking so long to update.  I kept thinking about it, but I was a little stuck on ideas for a while, but now that I have thought, I have a few stored away for some boring chapters to spice em up a bit.  Thanks for keeping up with the reviews!

**Wytil****: 14 DAYS!!!!?????!!!! SERIOUS!????  How can that be?  Are you sure we're talking about the same power outage here?  Well, anyway, mine wasn't so bad, I pity you though.  Hope you liked this chap and I'm glad you're still reading this.**

**Samantha:** Ahh, you're a nice reviewer.  Noticing my originality.  Or, my going for it anyway.  Yeah, I'm a big cliché disliker.  BIG.  I got that from a writing course I took.  Now, I always try to find new ways to say things, in case you haven't noticed, as some of them are kinda strange.  I try to dabble in most of my plots, since I have many, but sometimes it's hard.  Like this chap, I didn't really.  Just the main one.  I wanted to get some action going.  As for who Harry is going to stay with, let's hope Hermione comes up with something, eh?  Lol, ok I know that was corny.


	13. Explanation

Disclaimer : Not mine.

**Chapter 13: Explanation**

                Hermione gasped.  Although she realized that most of the Slytherin house would probably end up on the Dark Side, it was somewhat shocking to hear it as a truth.  

                "Why are you telling me?" she wanted to know.

                "Because, Ms. Granger.  Whoever it is, they are after Harry.  You are his best friend.  You can protect him."

                Hermione was flabbergasted.  Someone in the school, was out to get Harry, and she was supposed to be his saviour.  Had McGonagall gone mad?

                "I realize that this is very much a shock to you.  And no doubt you would ask why even keep the school open with a minion of the Dark Lord among us, but it is imperative that Harry remain safe.  I do not know if he has told you, but as of next summer, he has nowhere to live."

                "He told me," Hermione said in a quiet voice.  

                "It is dangerous for him now.  Much more so than before.  However, Professor Dumbledore feels that even though there is one amongst us who is disloyal, Harry is safer here, with us to watch over him."

                Questions poured into Hermione's mind in a rush.  

                "But…who is it?  And why tell me?  Why not Ron?  Why not tell Harry?" 

                "Hermione," the Gryffindor Head of House used her first name, "I have always thought you a cleverly brilliant girl.  I trust you.  I believe in you.  If I were to tell Ron or Harry first, what do you think they would do?"

                Hermione shook her head.  She knew what they would do.  Try to find out who it was and stop them.  Come to think of it, that wasn't a bad idea.  

                "They'd try to find whoever it is, putting themselves in even more danger."

                "Exactly," McGonagall made to go on, but Hermione cut her off.  She was still confused.  Scared.

                "But, Professor, how can you keep him here?  He's not safe!  He can't be!  And who is the traitor?"

                "I realize that it is very difficult to process this information, but believe me, Harry is safer here.  As for who the enemy is, we don't know.  All we do know is that someone here, a student, has been leaking information to You Know Who."

                "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T KNOW WHO IT IS??" Hermione shouted, shoving her chair back forcefully as she stood up.  Anger twisted about her insides.  How could she possibly think that Harry would be safe at Hogwarts, if she didn't even know who was out to kill him?  It could be anyone.  He could be attacked at any time.  The idea to keep him at school was ludicrous.  

                The bold Gryffindor leaned over the desk and stared at McGonagall.  "Are. You. Mad?"

                This outburst of Hermione's was a bit much for Minerva McGonagall, but she had to admit that she had reacted quite the same way when Albus had told her the news.  She doubted the headmaster's sanity as well, but she had trusted him for so long, that she finally agreed.  He wouldn't put Harry in danger.  However, she felt that he was keeping something from her, something important, but she had chosen to ignore it.  Sometimes, having faith, was the best thing.  

                The professor sighed.  "I see I am not explaining this very well, Ms. Granger.  Let me do so.  While there maybe be one among us who is not loyal, if Harry were to leave, he would be subjected to live in a place with no protection whatsoever.  Thus making it even easier for Death Eaters and the Dark Lord to find and kill him.  If he stays here, he is under the guard of all the teachers, and the headmaster.  At the moment, we are doing everything possible to discover the identity of the traitor, but we have found nothing yet.  If we find out that Harry is in serious danger, more than now, we will take drastic measures, but for the moment, there is no safer place than Hogwarts, hard as that may be to believe.  I truly think, that if someone were going to capture Harry during the school year, he would have done it already.  Perhaps, it is only information he seeks, but as long as we are here, we will always know where Harry is for sure."

                Hermione nodded, having composed herself once more.  What McGonagall said, had some truth in it, and Hermione regretted having yelled.  

                "So, what do you want me to do?"

                "I want you to protect him, Ms. Granger.  I want you to tell Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, and convince them not to go looking for trouble.  I trust that you are capable of such a thing?"

                Hermione nodded.  She was still a little wary of the whole situation.  Part of her wanted to take her best friend and hide him away in Switzerland or somewhere, but the other part of her knew that, under the watch of Professor Dumbledore, Harry was safe for now.  Standing up once again, Hermione made to leave, but as she opened the door, the professor spoke, "Don't let him be alone, Ms. Granger.  Watch over him."

                Hermione looked back at her favourite teacher quickly, before walking out the door.  She walked for a few feet before leaning against the cold wall to take in the seriousness of everything.  Harry was in real danger.  And it was up to her to protect him.  What about all the other students?  Weren't they in danger as well?  What was this traitor planning to do?  Take action?  Or simply relay information to the Dark Lord?  There were still so many questions she longed to have explained, but she knew that the answers she required, could not be had from a teacher.  She sighed heavily, trying to lift her shoulders high with the new burden she carried.  This year was so different.

***

**A/N :  Ahhh ok, I know that was really short and I have had more than enough time to write a generously long time, but take pity on the overworked girl from boarding school.  It's tough.  Anyway, I know this chap kinda sucks, and the explanations aren't that great, well you may think they're ok, but… **

**Von**: Yeah the conversationg between our two main men was a little off, I agree.  But oh well.  This isn't some glam piece of work to get published anyway, just for the enjoyment of my readers.  The bit with Malfoy, just wanted to reiterate the fact that he thinks he's better than her.  You'll see it again.  Does this explain well enough about telling Hermione bout the traitor?  Anyway, my mind is really off right now, but thanks for the review!  And sorry bout the wait.

**Samantha**: I love that you love my story, however, I will not take offence if you wish to flame this chap as it was kinda not thought through as well as my others, and hopefully the next one will be that and longer too.  Thanks for becoming a constant reviewer!  Means a lot to me.


	14. The Truth

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**Chapter 14: The Truth**

                "Erm…Harry, Ron, could I speak with you a moment?" Hermione asked in a quiet voice.  The three friends were all lounging about the common room.  Well, Harry and Ron were anyway.  It was very late and they hadn't had the energy to go upstairs.  They room was empty except for them.  Hermione closed the massive book she was reading from, determined to finally tell them what McGonagall had said.  She had worried the whole day and had been looking for the opportune time.

                "Um, yeah, of course," Ron answered for his friend.  They got up from their couch, looking rather surprised that Hermione wanted to talk.  Especially while she was doing homework.  They took a sat down next to her on the window seat, yet again and leaned back.  

                Locked in between her two best friends, Hermione lost a little courage and started out shakily.

                "Well, em…you know how I got that note t-today, at lunch?" she let out a long breath and fiddled with a curl nervously.  When the two boys nodded, she went on, "Well, McGonagall, she had something really important to tell me.  She told me...she told me that there's a spy here; someone working for the Dark Lord.  And not only that, but, well, Harry, they, uh, they think that whoever it is, they're after you."

                Hermione shut her eyes and shied away from the boy who lived, as if she thought he was going to hit her.  But Harry didn't move.  He didn't even breathe.  The lazy smile that had played across his face moments before, had vanished and in its place was a dead expression.  His eyes were streaked with sadness, vulnerability and a little fear, for although he had faced Lord Voldemort many times, he had never felt so close to real danger.  But even though this was the case, his eyes held an almost depressed knowing look.  Like he knew that it had only been a matter of time.  

                Hermione opened her eyes and saw Harry's face.  She cringed and looked up at Ron.  Although Harry was the one in actual danger, Ron looked even more scared for him.  His blue eyes were wide with a panicked look, as if searching for a place to hide his best friend.  Hermione could not have felt worse.  It wasn't as bad when you got awful news together, but she had been the one to tell them.  She had been the bearer of bad news and there was nothing she wished for more at that moment than to take it back and keep her friends in the dark, but she knew that they had to know.  For how can you protect yourself, if you don't know you should?

                "Who is it?" Harry finally broke the silence.  

                "I don't know, Harry.  She…she just told me that they knew someone was informing He Who Must Not Be Named."

                "They don't know who it is???  Merlin!  Why didn't they tell us?  Why haven' they told everyone?" Ron demanded.

                "They didn't want to alarm anyone," Hermione explained, "Nobody else can know."

                "WHAT?  Are they mad?  Why is Harry even still here??  Shouldn't they have taken him somewhere safe?" Ron asked in a voice of rage.

                "This is the only safe place, Ron.  I know…I know it doesn't seem that way, believe me, I thought Dumbledore was mad too, but think about it.  Without a home, Harry will be so much more unprotected out there.  Here, there's Dumbledore.  You know he's the only one He Who Must Not Be Named fears, and with his rising again, we need all the upper hands we can get."

                "We have to do something!  Now!" Ron told them.

                "No, Ron," Hermione put an hand on his arm.  She turned to Harry and said, "Harry you have to promise me that you won't go looking for trouble.  You're in so much danger already.  And I really couldn't bear to have something happen to you.  To either of you."

                Hermione was surprised at how controlled she was.  There was nothing more she would have liked to do than help Harry and Ron track down whoever it was that was against them, but it was too risky.  So, always the logical one, she kept hold of Ron's arm and looked at Harry for an answer.  

                Harry sighed deeply.  He was scared, no question, but he was tired too.  Frustrated at having to be so involved with Voldemort.  Was wanting to concentrate on school, on  instead of whether or not he was going to stay alive this year too much to ask?

                "Ok, Hermione," he gave up.  She was right, after all.  Going after Voldemort would be stupid."

                Hermione let out a breath of relief.  

                "Look, Harry.  I know this is a lot to take in.  I can't believe it either.  I was tempted to cart you off to some foreign country and not tell you anything," she gave him a little smile, "But it's true that you're safer here than anywhere else in the world.  I'm sure Dumbledore will figure out who it is soon enough.  And Ron and I are here to protect you.

                Ron nodded his head, face still red with rage.  

***

                The three friends went to sleep in different worlds that night.  Harry spent a good long time trying to block out the world.  He wouldn't allow himself to cry.  He'd faced Voldemort before.  He wasn't scared of him, but the pressure of being hunted for so long was wearing him down, slowly, but ever so surely.  In a moment of delusion, he even wished for his life before Hogwarts.  It had been hard, yes, but no matter what had happened, he'd been able to cope.  It felt now as if he was more alone than ever.  Even with Sirius and Hermione and Ron.  When he was alone, his entire soul felt empty, like his friends were only friends with him when he was with him.  He knew it wasn't true.  But the feeling of abandonment rested heavily upon his chest more and more.

                Ron took a long time getting to sleep.  His head was filled with plans of escape for Harry, but every one he came up with was crazier than the last.  He wondered whether his life would have been easier not being the best friend of the Boy Who Lived, but he knew that even though it would have been, nothing could ever tempt him to give up his friendship with Harry.  

                Hermione never went to sleep that night.  She sat all night in the same position.  She couldn't stop the tears from gushing down her cheeks.  She wanted to blame herself.  She wanted to think that she could have done something the years before that could have stopped Voldemort.  But she knew that it was up to Harry to defeat the monster.   

A/N:  Sorry for the such long wait and the shortness of this.  I know I promised for longer but I have absolutely no time to write here.  Anyway, I am trying my best to actually update, cuz I really wanna finish this story.


	15. Aftermath

**_Disclaimer: Not mine._**

****

**_Chapter 15: Aftermath_**

                Hermione got up stiffly from her bed in the morning.  It was early, not yet light.  As she stood in the shower, letting the steaming water run soothingly down her skin, she wondered what Harry would be like that day.  She hoped he wouldn't change.  Not that she could blame him if he did, but it was important that he not get depressed.  She herself was determined not to act differently.  

                She stepped out of the prefect's bathroom minutes later, dressed in her uniform, and headed for the common room.  She picked up her schoolbag from where she'd left it on the floor, and took out a fresh piece of parchment.  Homework was sure to get her mind off things.  

                Her quill scratched noisily in the silent room for the next few minutes, but she her work felt pointless. Finally, she gave up and leaned back, sinking deep into the soft couch.  

***

                "Hermione, wake up," a voice whispered softly.  The bushy brunette opened her eyes, slowly, to look into a pair of rich, green ones.

                "You slept through breakfast," he said as he helped her up from her seat, "I brought you some toast."

                Hermione smiled at him and, seeing her other best friend standing a few feet away, at Ron as well.  

                "I can't believe I did that," she grinned sheepishly, "Guess I just didn't sleep well last night."

                Ron nodded, "I don't really think any of us did.  He walked over to them and went on, "It's…still a bit fresh in the mind."  

                Hermione's forehead crinkled.  The atmosphere was too serious.  Ron was never serious, especially in the morning.  He was always the one to wake up smiling.  It made Hermione a bit nervous.

                Ignoring Ron's comment, she ordered, "Class.  Now."

                Harry gave her a grin, realizing her attempt to keep things normal.  He just hoped they could pull it off.

***

                "Ok, everyone," Harry began.  It was cold in the astronomy tower.  An enormous number of students had showed up for Defence Against Dark Arts tutoring.  Ron, Hermione and Harry stood together, waiting for them to stop talking.  Dennis Creevey, his brother and Susan Watson looked at Harry expectantly.  It made him feel a tad claustrophobic.  He smiled nervously at them, and realizing that it was quiet, began to teach.

                "Ok, I want everyone to get a partner, preferably of the same year," he ordered.  

                Before Hermione could even move, Ron had grabbed Harry's arm.  She knew that it was only because he was worried about his best friend, but she still felt a little left out.

                _Oh well.  That's the price I pay for being best friends with boys, she thought to herself.  Crossing the room, she tapped Lavender on the shoulder.  The brunette turned around and grinned widely when she saw Hermione._

                "It's amazing how many people came, don't you think?  I was wondering if we could all fit.  It's a good thing the tower is big," Lavender told her.  "Yeah, good thing," Hermione agreed.  She watched as Dean Thomas took a stance a few feet away from Seamus Finnigan, as if ready to duel.

                _Always ahead of the game, Hermione thought grudgingly.  Shaking her head slightly she wondered what it was about him that irked her so much.  So what if he was better than her at some things.  She could deal with it.  There were hundreds of wizards much better at magic than her.  Granted, they were probably about fifty years older, but what was the difference?_

                "Ok, I thought we'd just review the basics.  I know, you may not want to, but especially for some of the younger students, it'll be helpful," Harry announced.  

                Of the older students, mostly Gryffindor had showed up, but of the younger ones, still not quite worrying about house prejudice, there were some from all of the houses.  Although it was a little odd to be teaching Slytherins Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry wasn't about to turn anyone away.

                "The most basic exercise is the Disarming Spell.  _Expelliarmus, with a short flick of the wrist," Harry demonstrated.  Having grown used to teaching during the week for Professor Artemisia, Harry no longer stuttered or felt unconfident._

                The room echoed with loud shouts of the spell.  People were shoved against walls and telescopes because of the confinements.

                We need a bigger room, Harry sighed to himself.  The astronomy tower was big, but not big enough.  

                Dean walked over to him and rubbed his chin, "I think we need more space, mate."

                Harry nodded and ran a finger across his scar.  It had been hurting a lot as of late.  He wondered if whoever was working for Voldemort could be in this room.  It wasn't something he particularly wanted to know, his new motto being, "Ignorance is bliss," but it was still a bit scary to think that anyone could be watching him at any time.  Harry shuddered at the thought.  It wasn't the time to get scared.  If anything, these extra lessons should help him.  By teaching other students his own magic could strengthen, and he needed everything when it came down to it.  

                "Yeah, maybe I'll ask Dumbledore tomorrow," Harry said and turning to the rest of the kids, "Alright, that was good, but since we don't have a lot of space, I think we're gonna have to do it a few pairs at a time."

                The rest of the night was horror for Hermione.  Dean, Dean, Dean.  She couldn't get him out of her mind.  It seemed that every spell Harry told them to try, Dean was better.  Hermione lost her wand and her stance to Lavender numerous times while she was watching her fellow prefect out of the corner of her eye.  It annoyed her beyond definition, that he could make her lose her concentration so.

                She stumbled into her bed later that night, finally having all of her homework finished.  She couldn't say she was happy with how the day gone.  She'd noticed too many times, when Harry's eyes had become downcast and his pace slowed to a drag.  She could tell exactly what he was thinking, and it was almost too much to bear.  His usual, perhaps not pep or vivacity, but certainly the casual happiness seemed to have drained out of him.  

                Ron was even worse.  While not sad like Harry, he went around the halls, stomping so loudly it seemed to echo throughout the entire school.  Hermione knew he was upset.  Beyond upset and she couldn't blame him.  After all he'd been through.  It was hard on the both of them.  Knowing they needed to protect Harry, but not knowing from who, or how to even go about it.  Helpless didn't even begin to describe it.  

                But Hermione supposed it wasn't all that bad.  At least the two boys hadn't done anything foolish.  And they had a whole weekend in front of them.  A Hogsmeade weekend at that.  If anything could bring back the easy contentment, it was that.  

                She fell asleep easier that night, knowing how her friends were dealing.  But still, it was a restless sleep.  She tossed and turned with bad dreams so much, her roommates woke her up more than once to assure her everything was ok.  

***

                "Nothing like a warm Butterbeer," Ron said with a half smile.  Hermione grinned.  At least Ron was happier that day.  Harry, she was still working on.  

                "Harry, I thought we could go into Quality Quidditch after this.  I hear they've got new…oh what was it called?  The things that go round here," she said pointing to her leg.

                Harry burst out laughing, much to his friends' surprise.  

                "You mean, shin guards?" he asked after quieting down.

                "Uh…right.  Shin guards."

                "You're hopeless, Hermione.  Absolutely hopeless.  And I never thought I'd hear the day when you would voluntarily go in that store, but as you're up for it, let's go."

                Hermione, proud and somewhat stunned at her efforts to cheer her friend up, grabbed her bottle and followed Harry out, with Ron tailing behind.  

                "Are you ok, Harry?" Hermione said, not wanting to push her luck, but needing to know.  

                "I'm fine.  Really," he said at her sceptical look, "I know I was really, down yesterday, and well until now, but I've just kind of realized that there's no point in worrying.  Well, actually there is, but what I mean is, that if I let Voldemort bring me down when he isn't even here, then he's practically won.  You're not letting that bother you.  Hermione, you have to be one of the bravest people I know.  Even when Ron and I were completely out of it, you tried to keep it up.  I'm not going to let it get to me.  I can't let it get to me.  You kinda made me realize that back there."

                Hermione grinned, "He can never beat you, you know, Harry.  I'm glad you realize that."

                "Having a heartfelt talk with your girlfriend, Potter?" a mockingly sweet voice asked from behind the trio.

**Von**: Thanks for being my beta, without warning I might add.  I just thought it would be a good idea from now on.  I mean if I'm going to take so long, you might as well get something decent.  But yeah, those were helpful, thanks!  And… about last chapter, I'm glad you laughed.  You always think of such crazy things!

**Princess55**: Thanks!  Hope this makes up for my bad updating lately.  I know it wasn't _that fast this time, but I'm trying!!!_


	16. Give Me Some Answers

**Disclaimer: Never has been mine, still will never be.**

**Chapter 16: Give Me Some Answers**

                Hermione gripped Ron's arm tightly and urged her friends silently to ignore the great prat that wouldn't shut up.  Draco Malfoy, however, was determined to have a little chat.  

                "Think you're too good for me, eh Potter?  You, the charity case and the filthy Mudblood.  Pathetic," he sneered as he slithered up beside Harry.

                Hermione looked down to contain herself and saw Harry's fist clenching in anger.  Though tempted to stop him, Hermione found herself willing her raven-haired friend to punch the Malfoy heir right in the gob.

                "What no snappy comeback from the Tremendous Trio?"

                Harry's fist connected with the Slytherin's face so fast, Ron and Hermione barely had time to react.

                "Snappy enough for you, Malfoy?" Harry spat at him.

                Malfoy was curled on the ground, clutching his nose and crying out in pain.  Harry stalked off towards the Quidditch shop as his friends watched in astonishment.  Hermione gave Malfoy a quick glance, grabbed Ron's arm and hurried him along after Harry.

                "Are you sure you're ok, Harry?" Hermione inquired as they entered the store.  Harry wandered over to the display case and nodded.  

                "Yeah, of course.  I just can't stand Malfoy any longer.  We've been putting up with him forever.  Don't you think it's time we stopped?"  Hermione slowly nodded, "What do you think I've been doing this year, Harry?"

                "I know, I know," Harry said placing his on the glass countertop, "But it's got to be all of us.  Ron?"

                Ron's face turned a deep shade of red as Harry's statement questioned his manhood.

                "I-I try!  Have….haven't I tried??  I…he…" Ron looked at them in desperation, "Oh, fine.  You're right.  I just wish he weren't so nasty."

                Hermione nodded in agreement.  Malfoy had been particularly brutal that year.  

                "But Harry," Hermione started, "I don't think hitting Malfoy is really going to solve anything."

                "Hmph.  You're one to talk," said Harry .

                "Fine.  I deserved that," Hermione, though hurt, admitted, "But we've got to change.  There are other ways.  We can't let him get to us."

                Harry walked back over to his friends, "Promise."

                "Promise," Hermione agreed and they both looked at the red-haired member of their group.  Tugging at his collar, Ron finally got out, "Promise."

***

                Walking through the great doors of Hogwarts, Harry, Ron and Hermione talked rapturously about the new broom they had seen in the quidditch shop.  After having settled that they weren't going to let Malfoy push them around anymore, they had discovered the new Thunder Strike in a glass case near the rear of the store.  Apparently it was too valuable to be placed at the window, even with the charms protecting it.  The broom was a deep blue with its name inscribed elegantly in silver on the handle.  The advertisement above it said that it was faster even than the Firebolt, with an all-new brake system installed, and a cushioning charm that made it feel like you weren't even sitting on the broom. 

                "I'll never be able to get a_ Firebolt_, let alone one of those!" Ron complained as they entered the common room.  

                Harry looked uncomfortably at Hermione.  Though they were used to Ron's misery over the lack of money his family had, it never ceased to make them feel bad at the fact that their own parents were more than able to provide for them.  

                "Ron, life isn't all about quidditch you know.  We've got more important things to worry about anyway," said Hermione with a firm tone.  Ron's ears went pink at this remark and he was filled with a sense of remorse.

                "Speaking of which, Harry have you spoken to Sirius yet?" Hermione looked cautiously around the room to make sure they were alone.  Most of the students, fortunately, were either in bed after a long day at Hogsmeade or in the library, chewing through their mountains of homework.  There were a few first years remaining on the floor near the window and so the trio lowered their voices to an almost inaudible whisper.

                Harry shook his head, "He wrote me a few days ago, but I haven't gotten around to answering him.  I don't really know what to say, you know?  I mean, he's never been really good at controlling his temper."

                Hermione nodded.

                "You should really get at it, Harry.  He'll worry, and you know how badly that can turn out as well."

                "Yeah.  I suppose.  Alright," Harry consented.  

                "You want help, mate?" Ron offered.

                "Nah.  That's alright," Harry told him.  

                Ron nodded and followed his friend to the boy's dorms after saying goodbye to Hermione.  Hermione herself, stayed in the common room, lugging her book bag from its resting corner and opening it to reveal the colossal amount of homework.  She sighed as she looked at it.  Although she usually never put off her own homework, she knew without a doubt, she wouldn't be able to concentrate.  Something needed to be done.  There was no way that she could continue pretending that things were ok.  Harry was in too much danger for her to ignore everything.  Setting her bag down again, she got up from the couch and went to the portrait door.  Walking into the dimly lit halls, Hermione made her way to the headmaster's office.  

                "Bouncing Bellyflots," she announced to the stone gargoyles.  She groaned as the statues remained motionless.  Of course the password wouldn't be the same. It was constantly changing to protect Dumbledore.  Grumbling, Hermione wished that one of the prefect perks was always knowing the password to the gargoyles.  

                A foot scuffed the floor behind and made Hermione jump slightly.  Turning around, she came face to face with Malfoy.  Rolling her eyes ever so slightly, she asked, "What do you want?"

                "Me?" he asked in pseudo-innocence.  "Just out for a walk."

                "Right Malfoy.  What do you want?" 

                "To know what you're doing exactly."

                "I'm trying to get to Dumbledore's office, but I don't know the password," Hermione said as if it were the most common knowledge.  

                "Dumb, dumb girl.  You don't think that Dumbledore lives in his office do you?"

                Hermione's face flushed pink as she realized her mistake.  It was true that she had never been to the headmaster's office this late.  He always seemed to be the one who found her.  It never occurred to her that he had his own room.  

                Malfoy's smirk spread across his lips.  _Stupid Mudblood_, he thought.  

                "Well?" she said in a questioning tone.

                "Well, what?"

                "Where is it?" she asked in exasperation.  

                "You want me to tell you that?  You're mad.  Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you," Malfoy's smirk changed into a sneer.  He was enjoying playing with the smart aleck Gryffindor.  

                "Oh, Malfoy.  Why don't you just sod off then?" Hermione told him and stalked off.  

                "Because I love seeing you mad," he told her. 

                "I'm not mad," she defended herself as she stopped and faced him for a second time, "I'm frustrated."

                "As if there's a difference."

                Hermione gave him a strange look before walking off again, leaving him standing there with an odd expression across his own face.  

                After an hour of searching, Hermione finally stumbled into a tall set of black robes.  

                "Oh, Professor Artemisia.  I'm awfully sorry," Hermione apologized as she picked herself up off the ground.  

                "Not a problem, dear.  But what are you doing out so late?" she asked, pushing her tiny spectacles back into place.  

                "Oh, it's not so late.  Most of the older years are allowed out now because of OWLs and NEWTs," Hermione explained, "I was looking for Professor Dumbledore."

                "Ah, well, you might be hard pressed to find him.  His chambers are carefully hidden," Artemisia said in her soft voice, "Would you like me to accompany you?" 

                Hermione looked slightly startled and somewhat suspicious.  Everyone was chary around the new professor.  They were still waiting on her odd quirk to show up.  

                Finally acquiescing, Hermione fell into stride beside Artemisia.  For what seemed like forever, they walked along the increasingly cold corridors. 

                Eventually, they arrived in front of a wall.  For a moment, Hermione looked at her companion as if she might be round the bend.  It was just like any other wall in the school.  But as Artemisia took out her wand and tapped the stones, muttering a short password, they separated to reveal an opening into a large room.  

                Stepping inside, Hermione gasped.  It was by far one of the most extraordinary rooms she ad ever seen.  A red glow seemed to float throughout the room, delicately touching the walls, the furniture, the floor.  There was a large sofa off to one side, plump and soft.  On the other side, stood a magnificent writing desk, stacked with books and papers, and accompanied by a large wooden chair.  On the floor was a great, softly inviting, dark green carpet.  Hermione couldn't describe exactly what was so marvellous about the room, it merely had an aura.  

                Sitting across the room in a soft maroon armchair, was the headmaster.  His glasses rested easily on the bridge of his nose and his nightcap flopped to one side of his head.  He was reading a rather large book, the title of which Hermione couldn't make out.  Dumbledore looked up with a smile as the two women entered the room.  He closed his book and set it on a table beside his chair.

                "Hello, Professor, Ms. Granger.  To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked with his soft, gentle voice.  

                Hermione looked at Artemisia to go.  The professor nodded and the young scholar made her way timidly toward the professor.  Standing in front of him, she began.

                "Professor Dumbledore, I wanted to speak to you about…about Harry."

                "Ah, yes.  I assumed you would.  I was surprised you did not come straight away.  How is young Potter?" the headmaster inquired, taking of his spectacles and cleaning them on is robes.  He gestured towards a chair that had appeared behind Hermione, and she sat.  

                "Well, I don't rightly know.  You know Harry; he hides a lot of things.  I have a feeling he's putting on a face of bravado," Hermione confessed with a heavy heart.  

                The headmaster nodded sagely.  He had been waiting for her.  He knew that of the three, Hermione was the most likely to seek advice from him.  

                Setting the glasses back on his nose, he began, "Hermione, from the moment I discovered that Harry was in danger, I felt it necessary to watch over him.  I, and many others, have done everything within our powers to make sure that he is safe.  But what we cannot do is make him happy.  We have no control over his emotions, nor should we.  The mind is a delicate thing.  Harry's now more so than ever.  No matter how he tries to hide it, he is scared and feels alone."

                "He isn't though," Hermione said almost pleadingly.  

                "Of course not physically, but in some ways, there are things that you will never be able to help him with because you have never experienced them.  Harry has been through a lot in sixteen years.  More than any person should have to deal with in a lifetime.  And now the pressure is taking its toll.  Voldemort has been growing stronger and every day, Harry's resolve has been growing weaker.  His happiness drains as evil surrounds him."

                Hermione nodded, wishing that he hadn't said that there was nothing that she could do.  There was nothing more she wanted that to be able to magic everything away, but there was no spell powerful enough to change existence.  She sighed.  

                "Now, I suppose you wish to know about Voldemort's presence at Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked slowly.  

                Again, Hermione nodded and braced herself.  She had no idea what the headmaster would tell her, or if he would tell her anything at all.  

A/N  Wow, it's been a while.  I know that I really haven't slipped back into this story well.  Things happen so, we all change, but I hope people will still read and def. review.  Lovs to those who do!


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